Alpha Centauri, I: The Beginning
by Aureus Lux
Summary: Meet Andromeda Sims, an alien sent to Earth from a dead planet. But what happens when her Earth parents die, too, in Gotham? The beginning is my own little take on "A Matter of Family," then mixed with some other stuffs. Rated "T" just in case. I own only what you don't recognize. Special thanks to Fighter1357- without this author, Chapter 5 wouldn't be possible!
1. Chapter 1

**HEYYYY Y'ALL! I'm a bit new to this website, and this is my first chapter story I'll be working on. I will also be working on a bunch of other stories, like Phoenix. I plan to make my Alpha Centauri a series that follows Andy and her adventures with the JL and YJ teams, and maybe a little TT in there too.**

**DISCLAIMER: I own only Andromeda, Astridareus, Rachel, Harry, Zoey, a bit of the plot, and anything else you don't recognize. Nothing else.**

**The first parts are inspired by "A Matter of Family" from the TV show The Batman, but after that, the story just takes its own spin.**

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SATURDAY, Sept. 24, 2011

I stuff the rest of my broccoli into my mouth. "Ca' we 'o 'racbif mow?" I ask my parents through my bulging cheeks. My adopted parents and I are having dinner in our trailer. The time is about six o'clock, and I'm very eager to start rehearsal for the circus show later tonight.

"Yes, Andy," replies my mom, Rachel (my full name is Andromeda). "You may go get changed."

"But wait to set up the equipment and such," my dad, Harry, joins in. "We don't want you getting hurt right before the show."

"Okay!" I jump out of my seat and dash to my room in the back. I'm dressed in less than a minute. Today, I decided to change into a simple black long-sleeved shirt and matching knee-length leggings with pockets, both made out of an incredibly strong but lightweight and fireproof fabric originating from my home planet. Yes, _planet_. The organic fabric can change color on command, and it allows my body to emit or absorb light energy.

Yes- I am able to control energy in the form of light, and I can shape it into whatever I want. Since I can also absorb light, I use this to regenerate strength and to blend in well with shadows as a sort of camouflage. A downside of being an alien is that my eyes are a dead giveaway for my emotions: they change color according to my current state of mind. Most of the time, like today, I wear brown-colored contacts.

But back to the planet thing. I was born on a small, far-away Earth-like planet called Astridareus. Everyone on the planet had similar abilities like mine: some can control water, fire, the wind, or earth; some have telekinesis or telepathy, and much more. The ability to convert energy into different forms and clairvoyance are the rarest abilities (I happen to be able to convert energy into light. I also have astral projection, which lets my mind travel without my body). We can all fly, and we all have hearing, sight, and taste better than any human. In addition, we all age at a slower rate than that of a human, so I look to be about thirteen years old but I am really seventeen.

What we measure by are what we call physical years and mental years. Physical years are how old we look, and mental years are how old we actually are. Until we look like a human ten-year-old, we age physically one year for every two mental years, so we would be twenty when we look ten. After that, we age one year physically after every four mental years. The average life expectancy is somewhere between two hundred ten and two hundred thirty-five mental years.

When I was eight mentally, the smallish planet was under an invasion and losing the war. My parents, the rulers of the planet, took a shuttle to carry me away to another planet. I watched through the window of the small ship as my entire home planet was destroyed.

The planet turned out to be Earth. Since I was to be starting and finishing the rest of my life on the human planet, I was injected with a hormone inducer that would speed up my physical aging, but still allow me to age slower as an adult to live my full life expectancy (this is how I am mentally seventeen, not twenty-six).

I was also given a necklace that allowed me, on command, to switch back and forth between my true, crystalline form and an Earth human form that I had picked: medium skin and dark hair. The only things that I couldn't change were my general appearance (curves, cheekbones, etc), my height (a sad five-foot-two), and my eyes.

Anyways, I had to fly through a wormhole and I came out a few astronomical units away from Earth. To summarize, I was found, put into adoption, and taken in by a circus family. Now I'm physically fifteen, and I'm being home-schooled. My life is good.

I grab my cellphone and race out of the trailer. The warm, late-summer breeze feels great on my face. A couple hundred meters ahead looms the classic red-and-yellow tent, which is about the same size of a football field in area. I push open the back flap and enter the darkness. Before I switch on the lights, I hesitate. Something doesn't feel right. I flip the switch to see what's wrong and see four men sitting in the empty benches meant for the audience.

I freeze. These men don't seem like normal men. Even though they're on the opposite side of the tent, I sense the air around them: a kind of diabolicalness, but in a subtle manner. It's just kind of weird.

When they see me, they arise and walk down the steps, towards me. One of the men is close to six-foot-six, bald, scarred, and very, very buff. He wears a t-shirt and cargo pants, unlike the others' suits. He has a thin gold chain around his neck, and his left ear is pierced.

A second man, in comparison, reaches almost half a foot shorter than me, and I'm five-foot-two. He is also bald, but he wears a suit- Armani, I think. The little man has a single gold tooth, one of his canines.

The third man is lanky, and about eight inches taller than me. Of course, he wears a suit, and he has a mustache and goatee. In his hand is a leather whip. Even though it's coiled, I can tell that it's a bit longer than a regular whip.

The man in front is about five-foot-ten, and around forty years old. He has one green eye and one brown. I can tell that he is strong-ish, and that he is in charge of the group. The air around him feels more sinister than the others put together.

As the thugs walk closer, I can tell that there is something in the leader's mouth, and that it is a toothpick. It's blue and it's ends are carved with a spiral shape.

I pull a knife from my belt, and grab a spear leaning against the canvas nearby. I twirl it expertly, hoping to intimidate the strange intruders.

"Touch me, and you're a human shish-kabob," I growl.

Just then, my parents enter. My mom must've only seen the spear, because she starts, "We told you to wait for us to get-" but her gasp cuts her off. By now, the man in front is a few feet away from me. His buddies hang in the shadows, though.

"Hello," he says to me. "I'm Tony Zucco. Welcome to Gotham City." He extends his hand. I stash my knife and discard the spear, but I look at him, smirking, as if I can't believe he actually expects me to shake his hand. Before I can do anything else, my father gently nudges me aside.

"Harry Sims, circus manager. How can I help you?" he asks Zucco politely.

"Well, I would like to help _you_. For just a small fee, my brothers and I will provide… protection… for your circus." He gestures to the three men behind him. On cue, they step into the light in designated positions behind Zucco: the midget is on a platform meant for the ring leader, the muscular dude is leaning against a stack of barrels, and the walking pole is a few feet away from the muscular dude.

"Why would we need your protection? We've been here for five days, and we've been perfectly fine."

During this conversation, I surreptitiously slip my hand into my pocket, locate my cellphone, and dial three digits. I lower the sound as much as I can and wait.

"I think you misunderstood," Zucco shakes his head as he strides closer to dad and pokes his finger into his chest. "Let me put this into terms you circus folk can understand. Don't pay me, and you'll have to face the Strong Man…" he motions to Yellow Shirt, who slams his fist into the barrels, sending them flying. "…the Lion Tamer…" The man with the whip uncoils it, lashes it at a hanging light fixture, and yanks, causing it to be ripped from the cords holding it and crash down on the ground. "…and the Juggler." Finally, the midget takes out a set of three classic bowling pins and juggles them. After a few seconds, he grasps a pin without letting go, kicks the next pin into a target, and throws the one after at another bullseye.

Before he can find a target for the last pin, I sprint a few yards, vault over a platform, and land in front of the Juggler. I spread my arms out to block his vision and practically scream the word, "_Stop_!"

Zucco strolls casually to me and places his hand on my right shoulder. I lower my arms, and the Juggler lowers his bowling pin. "You've got yourself quite an interesting family. My pops always told me that family is the most important thing, more than anything else. I know my brothers mean a lot to me. I'd hate it for something BAD to happen to them…" he trails off as he squeezes a pressure point on my shoulder.

I barely have time to gasp before I unconsciously spin around, grab Zucco's arm, and twist it as hard as I can. I raise my fist to punch him, but the Lion Tamer lashes his whip around my wrist and yanks hard. I fight the pull, and my dad comes charging through the Tamer, who goes flying across the tent.

My arm is released and I punch Zucco in the nose. I feel a satisfying crunch under my fingers. As he stumbles back, I switch my focus to my father. The midget comes flying at him, but my dad throws him easily aside. The Lion Tamer runs towards him, brandishing his whip, but he earns a kick in the chest before my dad neatly handsprings back. Even though he wears a satisfied grin, I can tell something is wrong.

_But where is the Strong_- "_Dad_! Behind you!" I scream in mid-thought. The Strong Man appears behind my dad and swings hard at his head. My dad crumples to the ground as my mom screams and I watch helplessly. I don't want to use my powers, for fear of being discovered.

I turn my glare to Zucco, who seems to have regained his dignity for the moment. "Let me just be blunt with you, Harry. I don't think you, your family, or your circus can manage not having our protection."

I giggle a little. "I'm sorry, but I have to disagree with that right there! 'Cause I think we _can_ manage without you."

"Andy, please be quiet!" my mom begs.

"Now, sweetie, what makes you say that?"

"First of all, they have me- I've been doing tae kwon do since I was five, and I'm thirteen right now.

"Second, this is freakin' _Gotham_. Only a person who either a) has no life, or b) lives under a rock would've _not_ heard of the decrease of crime rate in this city since the Batman became ruler.

"Last but not least, I called the cops like, five minutes ago." I pull out my cellphone and show the screen to the thug. His eyes widen in worry and surprise.

"Guess who intercepted that call?" I deep voice calls out from the shadows behind Zucco. He turns around and gets punched in the face again, but this time, by a black-gloved hand. Zucco goes flying and lands at my feet. I kick him for the fun of it.

"Bitch," I mutter.

The man steps forward and helps my dad up. My mom rushes to the trailer as I sprint to my dad's side. When I glance at the man, I see the familiar black bat symbol on the man's chest. A black cape and cowl set the look. I can't help but gape in awe.

The Batman. In the flesh. Standing right in front of me.

The Lion Tamer, Juggler, and Strong Man are already up. The Tamer positions himself to fight Batman, but the other three run off as their fourth member stays behind, fighting.

The Tamer throws everything he has at the mysterious man, but he misses as Batman dodges easily. He throws a boomerang- sorry, batarang- which hits the Tamer's hand, knocking the whip out. It comes back around to hit the man in the back of the head. The boomerang isn't sharp enough to seriously hurt the man, but he's stunned pretty well.

My mom is back, and she's gingerly wrapping gauze around her husband's head. I turn to Batman and smile thanks. He returns the smile… almost, I think.

He leaves right after I first hear sirens. The policemen pick up the Lion Tamer, but don't linger for long after. My parents and I clean up with the help of some crew members who have already arrived. Soon, the tent looks spic and span again, and ready for the big performance tonight.

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**This is an eye-emotion chart I made to help you. A couple of these are based on Lantern Corps'.**

**Red: anger, agitation**  
**Orange: anxiety**  
**Yellow: fear**  
**Green: peacefulness/tranquility/ happiness**  
**Blue: sadness**  
**Indigo/Purple/Pink: love**  
**White: neutral/regular  
Black: embarrassment**

**Rate and review please!**

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**Astridareus (as-trih-DARE-ee-us): Andromeda's home planet. Root word being "astrid" which means "star" or "star-like"**


	2. Chapter 2

**I do not own anything, except for what you don't recognize.**

**The cover is new. This is my idea of what Andy sees when she looks up at the night sky, because of her acute and light-sensitive vision.**

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A little more than an hour later, it's finally eight o'clock, opening time of the show. My parents and I go on as the opening, then do a costume change for a second performance for the finale.

When I am done changing, I wait at the small table inside the trailer. My first performance outfit consists of a halter, matching ruffled miniskirt, and arm gauntlets made of the same alien material that I wear as the rest of my costume. The fabric ripples and gleams like liquid silver as I move. In addition, I have a light-blue-colored leather belt that has small pockets for various items, straps for my throwing knives, and a cellphone holster. It also comes with two gun holsters made for my NeuroBlasters and pockets for extra battery packs.

My mom comes out of her room first, followed by my dad. My mom wears a blue V-neck leotard. At the shoulders, it starts as the same blue as my belt, then gradually fades to a cobalt at her hips. Her tights are meant to complete the scheme, starting at cobalt around her hips and fading to a midnight color at the knees.

My dad wears a similar costume- the only differences are that the order of the colors are reversed, and his outfit is in long-sleeved unitard form. Both entire costumes are bedazzled in white rhinestones, my mom's more than my dad's, and custom-made for their tall, strong physiques.

We also have face makeup. Blue and white glittery swirls sprout from the outer corners of my eyes and crawl down my cheeks and up my forehead in a twist of bright color. My parents' makeup looks similar. So far, I have about twenty different pictures on Facebook of just my different makeup designs. A dozen more are of me and my family in our costumes.

"Are you ready, Andromeda?" my mother asks in her soft, sweet voice.

"I was born ready," is my determined reply.

"You've practiced aerials, round-offs, and handsprings to perfection," my dad assures me. I know how good I am at floor work, but I just feel more comfortable up in the air. "There's nothing to worry about. If you make a mistake, the chance is that only a few audience members will spot it."

"Okay."

"You ready?"

I nod, smiling. "Yes. I am so excited- _egho cante exspecti_-"

"English, please!" my mother giggles as she shakes her head.

"-this will be fun!" I finish, grinning a bit sheepishly. Whenever I get excited, I tend to slip into my native, alien tongue.

"Better. Let's go."

Around twenty minutes later, I am wearing a black bathrobe over my silver costume and standing in the shadows on the north tower platform.

There are two towers- north and south- each in their appropriate locations. They are used for the trapezes, and to hold up the enormous tent. They're connected only by a thick, one-hundred-sixty-four-foot cord that hold the trapezes, which hang three yards below. The cables holding the trapezes are bolted onto a board over my head, positioned so the trapezes hang at about eye level.

I quietly wait for my turn in the spotlight. Now, my parents are performing. I watch them do single, double, triple, and even quadruple aerial flips. No wonder why these shows sell out pretty quickly- my parents and I are the only people known of that can do a quadruple aerial somersault.

I look down and see the ringleader switch his microphone on. "Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for this amazing family!" the man belts into the receiver. "But wait- this act isn't over just yet. Ladies and gentlemen, it is my proud pleasure introduce you to the youngest member at just thirteen- Andromeda Sims!"

The audience goes wild as a spotlight lands on me. I smile in the warmth and light, absorbing just a bit of the energy and releasing it in the faintest of glows. My mom always says that I have the natural gift of capturing anyone's attention, and that everyone who meets me, loves me. I know that a lot of people do like me, but I also block it out a bit because I don't want everything to get to my head.

"And may I remind you that all of these phenomenal stunts are performed without the use of a net or a safety harness?"

Oh, yeah. I had a feeling that there was something that I was forgetting to mention.

I watch my parents continue to execute flips as I untie the fabric belt around my waist. I feel a strange rush of energy course through my body, but I dismiss it as a normal pump of adrenaline. I realize ignoring it was a mistake when I hear the deafening _bang_ of two gunshots penetrate my eardrums. I look to my parents, who have a pained look on their faces. The front of their costumes are stained brilliant red. My blood runs cold. The only image reaching my vision is my parents.

All else has disappeared.

Time slows down further.

_Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale._

I stare with my fist practically in my mouth, unable to look away from the horrifying scene. _Materra. Abbe._

_Breathe_.

I barely see the audience's motions as they grip the edge of their seats to the point of their knuckles turning white. A man stands up, just a dark form at the edge of my sight. I can barely make out his tall, muscular structure and broad shoulders. The silhouette looks vaguely familiar.

_Inhale, exhale._

I somehow manage to tear my eyes away at the last second, before they hit the ground. My eyes brim with tears that refuse to fall. My blurred vision becomes edged with dark cobalt, a sign that my irises have changed colors.

I sink to my knees, then swivel around and wrap my arms around the tower. I'm shaking fiercely, unable to control myself. I choke on the lump that's bubbling up in my throat.

_What will happen to me now?_ I barely think of anything else before my mind is swallowed by the void of unconsciousness.

* * *

"Andromeda! Andy, can you hear me?"

I wake up, and my eyes have already adjusted to the semidarkness. I look around and see the crew director, Stephan, sitting next to me. I'm lying on one of those thin emergency gurneys that they store in the back of ambulances. I'm still in my bathrobe and costume. An oxygen mask covers my nose and mouth. The lights on the ambulances eerily illuminate the nearby trees and the side of the tent. Seeing everything, I start to hyperventilate- the hustle and bustle of all the EMCs running around slightly freaks me out.

I rip the mask off, much to the dismay of the paramedics. Screw them. I sit up and wrap my arms around Stephan's broad shoulders and start crying again.

"I don't wanna go into a foster home!" I cry helplessly. "I like my life the way it is. Or, was, anyways."

I pause to sniffle. "But I guess it doesn't really matter now."

"Hey, hey, hey," he whispers. "We'll figure something out. Maybe you can stay with me until something works out."

"Like someone comes to adopt me?" I ask bitterly as I pull away from the embrace. I know that, given the proper tools, I would be able to live life on my own as an adult, but I'm just not ready yet. I have this bad feeling about doing that now. I can't explain it, but usually when I have a bad feeling, I'm _right_.

"If that's how it has to be." Stephan's light brown eyes meet mine. About thirty-five years old, he stands just under six feet tall, and he's muscular from lifting props and set pieces. He kind of looks like Tom Cruise.

I sadly look away, and see the ringleader walking up to me and Stephan.

He looks like your typical ringleader: dark hair, handlebar mustache and goatee, somewhat short and portly. He wears a traditional costume: a red and gold embroidered waistcoat with long tails, a white shirt, a black silk tie, and black pants. He holds his top hat in his hands.

"Andromeda," he says. "I... I'm so very sorry. If there's anything I can do for you..."

"It's okay." I wipe my eyes again. "It's fine."

"You only have to ask." Before leaving, he bows slightly. He disappears into a crowd.

Throughout the rest of the night, other people from the show and even some audience members come up to me and give me their sympathy. I catch a glimpse of the man who stood up in the tent, but his back is turned to me. He is talking with one of the paramedics, so I don't want to interrupt them. I barely remember trudging back to my trailer and falling asleep in my parents' bed.

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**I didn't know what lengths to make the cables or the height, so... yeah. :-)**

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**Astridarin**

**Egho Cante Exspecti (EGG-ho CAHNT-eh ehck-SPEC-tee): from EGO cant' exspecto: I can't wait**

**Materra (muh-TERR-uh [slightly rolled "r"]): from Mater: Mother**

**Abbe (AH-beh [the "-beh" is almost silent]): from Abba: Father**

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**This chapter was a bit short. Sorry! The next ones are a few hundred words longer, though.**

**I'll try to see if I can make this longer, but my main goal right now is to just finish the story in general. _Then_ I'll do the details.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Last chap was kinda short, but this one can make up for it. Hehe.**

**I own nothing, only Zoey and Andy etc.**

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SATURDAY, Oct. 8, 2011

The next two weeks rush by in an emotionless blur. Papers are signed. Attorneys are consulted. The funeral is organized and held the next week. Other than me and Stephan, most of the rest of the circus and the crew attend the service. My parents are to be laid to rest in the Gotham City Cemetery. The burial is on Saturday, October 8th.

Of course, it has to rain.

I spend most of the time fidgeting with my clothing: a figure-hugging long-sleeved black V-neck that stretches just past my hips, black skinny-jeans, and black ballet flats. I do talk to the people attending, but other than that, I do not say anything. A couple hours later, Stephan, two other men, and I are the only ones left under the overhang.

"Everything will work out," he tries to comfort me. He checks his Rolex watch. "I have to go now. Will you be okay here?"

"Yeah. I'll be fine."

"Okay. Bye, kiddo." He hugs me one last time before rushing out into the pouring rain.

About two minutes after Stephan leaves, I hear muffled footsteps approaching from behind. Barely turning my head, I observe the man out of the corner of my eye. I can sense he doesn't mean any harm, but I don't let my ever-present guard drop. I make a mental note to put him in the hospital for the next month if he makes a move that I don't like.

He looks like your typical tall, dark, and handsome guy, with his black hair and intelligent blue eyes. By the length of his stride I can tell that he stands just over six feet tall. His strong figure matches the silhouette of the mystery man in the tent. But I know I've seen his figure before; his height, the width of his shoulders, and the way he walks…

"Hello, Andromeda. I'm Bruce Wayne," he introduces himself as he holds out his hand.

_Bruce Wayne, huh?_ His voice is soft and deep. "I'm an old friend of Stephan's. We met in middle school, actually."

"Cool. Thanks for coming. I guess." I shake his hand almost lifelessly. "And for everything. I heard you paid for most of this."

After a few silent moments, Bruce asks, "How are you holding up? After everything that's happened."

I want to tell him that this is nothing in comparison to the devastation of losing my entire planet, but its impact is still heart-shattering. Instead, I smile sadly and answer, "I guess I'll be all right. At least, that's what everyone says. What they keep telling me."

The smile fades quickly. "I don't know if I really need someone to feed me and give me a weekly allowance and all that stuff that parents are supposed to do; I can mostly take care of myself. I just need someone to tell me right from wrong. Someone to be there, to show me support.

"Right now, this period of a person's life is when stability is most needed. I need to stay in one place. I need friends that I won't see for just a single week at a time. I need a home that I'm not moving out of after a week or two." It's true. I could take care of myself, but I want to live my life as an Earth girl, not an alien. This was my decision, to stay hidden. Of course, unless absolutely necessary.

I look at Bruce. His face reveals to me his sympathy, but I can see through his blue eyes that he is remembering something from long ago. I wonder, but I do not invade his thoughts.

"Well," Bruce says after a few moments of silence, "I'm sure you will find a good family."

"Thanks," I reply. "What I am most worried about is forgetting them. I don't want their memory to disappear entirely."

"They'll be with you, in your heart."

A song comes to mind. "'And now whatever way our stories end, I know you have rewritten mine by being my friend….'" I recite from my memory.

"I saw that play, I think. _Wicked_, right?"

"Yes."

"You have a good memory."

"Photographic, actually."

"Ah. Do you sing much?"

"Usually, yes." Not only am I a singer, but my real parents _and_ my foster parents also came from musically gifted backgrounds. Music runs in my blood.

"Well, sing on, Andromeda."

I look up at Bruce with sad and startled eyes. Almost right after our eyes meet, though, I bow my head and let my long, straight brown hair fall over my face. Years ago, my mom gave me the exact same advice. Sing on, Andromeda.

Sing on.

"I should probably go now."

"Do you want my butler, Alfred, to drive you home?" A butler?

_I'm not really sure where home IS anymore,_ I think to myself. "No. Thank you. I-I'll catch a taxi. I have a bunch of change."

"Are you sure? The rain-"

"I'll be fine," I snap. My cheeks burn as I duck my head again. "I'm sorry." I search the area. Something doesn't feel right. I've felt like this a few times before. It's like the feeling you get when someone's watching you, only more ominous. It could be just the rain. Am I going paranoid?

"I have to go. Thank you." I turn and leave. As soon as I'm thought to be out of earshot, I hear the man I presume to be Alfred speak to Bruce.

"Andromeda was adopted. Her parents were all the family she had."

"That's why I've decided to take her in. As a foster daughter.

"I was lucky enough to have you. She should have the same. I know she may need a mother figure more than anyone else, but a father can be just as important." He continues until I actually do get out of earshot.

I smile. My vision becomes edged with a forest green. Bruce Wayne is really going to adopt me? I don't even know what to say or think.

My walk through downtown Gotham City does nothing to stop the paranoia. I observe the few cars and fewer pedestrians, I quickly turn corners, I walk in one entrance of a store and out the other, but I still feel somewhat shaken.

I watch for people on the street again. I see no one who looks suspicious. Swirls of orange and yellow with tiny hints of red crawl into the corners of my range of sight. Ugh. I slow down and breathe for a minute to let myself calm.

Still nothing.

I quickly turn around and shiver as I accidentally bump into a tall, obviously muscular man with white hair and an eye-patch. Probably an ex-soldier. The shade of topaz in my vision intensifies.

"Oh, I'm... ah, I'm sorry," I stutter, keeping my head lowered as to not make any eye-contact. As I slip by him, I can feel his gaze on my back. I shiver again. Something is _not_ right.

Back at the hotel room I'm staying at, I strip my damp clothing and spend half an hour letting the hot water of a shower stream down my skin. The steam and the tropical smell of my shampoo and conditioner mostly refresh my mind.

That night, I can't stop thinking about anything. Why did I feel so paranoid earlier? Does someone know that I'm an alien? And what about that man I literally ran into earlier? Does _he_ know? If so, then how?

Is Bruce Wayne _really_ going to adopt me?

I eventually fall into a restless, dreamless sleep.

* * *

TUESDAY, Oct. 18, 2011

Over the next week, even more papers are signed. Officials in the system are talked to. My parents' trailer is cleaned of my clothing and personal items. It's arranged for Bruce to pick me up next Tuesday, on the 18th.

It's nine o'clock, and I'm just finishing up my packing. I fold my remaining garments and lay them in my suitcase. All of my regular clothes and my costumes are packed. When I check off everything mentally, that's when I remember my secret stash of… necessities.

I lie down flat on the cushy carpet and reach under my bed. My fingers grip the handle of a titanium and lead-lined briefcase. I drag it out, unlock it with the key hanging on a chain around my neck, and remove the false top.

Underneath are shining guns, knives, and katanas originating from both Earth and my home planet. In addition, there's five million dollars in US, European, and Chinese currency, each; multiple passports, driver's licenses, birth certificates, and ID cards; and more colored contacts and some hair dye.

I run through all possible scenarios of the jeopardization of my true identity. I push my long sleeves up my arm and summon small amounts of light to both hands. The light streams down my arms to decorate my skin in ancient Astridarin symbols that came in the package with my powers.

Any abilities that an Astridarin might have will also come with a set of symbols engraved on our skin where the power originates from. For mind-reading or telekinesis, the symbols might be at your temples. For sonic scream, the symbols would run down the sides of your neck. For fire controlling, water controlling, etc., the markings would be at your hands and arms. The only abilities that don't have markings are flight and clairvoyance.

The streaks of light whirl and spiral up to my elbows. After I stop using my abilities, the patterns will eventually fade to just markings, then back to my normal skin tone. When I'm in my true form, the markings don't fade. Tiny cursive letters stretch across the back of both of my wrists: "Lux vexillifer et Vita dator" which is Astridarin for "Light bearer and Life giver."

Light bearer.

Life giver.

With my past? Yeah, right.

I about jump out of my skin when I hear someone knocking on my door. After unrolling my long sleeves, I wait five seconds before rushing to the door and opening it to reveal Stephan.

"Come in!" I greet as I gesture to the hotel room. "Want something to drink?"

"No, thank you," he replies as he shakes his head. "Is everything ready?"

"Almost. I just need a suitcase for you."

The tall brunette laughs. "Sorry, kiddo. Gotta stay with the circus. They need me."

"Yeah. I'll miss you, though," I tell him honestly. "Keep in touch- on Facebook, on Gmail, whatever. Text me regularly."

"I will," he promises. "I'll visit you. Bruce is a nice man. He's not as self-centered as he seems. He'll take care of you."

I raise my eyebrow. "Did he have to pay you to say that?"

Stephan makes a face.

"Okay."

I hear someone knocking again.

"Hold on." I retrace my steps to the door. I have to stand on my tip-toes to see through the peephole.

"Speak of the devil," Stephan smirks as I pull open the door. Bruce and Alfred walk through the threshold.

"Hi, Andromeda," Bruce greets me.

"Hello," I reply. "My bags are in here." I walk to the other side of my bed and drag my two heavy suitcases, briefcase, laptop carrier, and my tote bag out.

"Are you ready to go?" he asks.

I never felt nervous before, but this is when I begin to feel butterflies in my stomach. I look up at my close friend for reassurance, and he nods.

"As I'll ever be," I sigh. I turn back to my old friend. "Until we meet again." I pull him into a long hug.

"Good-bye."

"I'll see you 'round, kiddo." With that, Stephan gets up, exits the room, and leaves to go back to the circus.

"Let's go," Bruce says.

The sky is grey outside, but the air is a bit warm, like it's just hanging there. A couple seconds later, raindrops start plinking onto the asphalt. Halfway to the car, I almost faint. Bruce is walking right next to me, and he sees me start to trip and stumble.

"Bruce…" I stop and hold my head, and the world begins to spin by me. I finally lose my sense of balance and keel over. Thankfully, Bruce catches me around my waist before I hit the ground.

"Are you okay?" Bruce asks, clearly concerned.

I blink in the bright sunlight. "What just happened?"

"You fainted," Alfred answers. "Your body probably isn't getting enough water or food."

"I… maybe," I agree quietly. "I- I also haven't been sleeping properly." I'm not exactly ready to break it to him that I'm an alien and I hadn't Hibernated for almost the last two weeks, which is a dangerous feat.

Hibernation is a deep sleep state that I must enter once every week for five hours or more to regenerate my energy. I can project my mind into an astral plane so I can watch over my body while I Hibernate, as that time period is when I am most vulnerable. I can astral project while in Hibernation to watch over my body, but I can't talk to anyone or touch anything- even if I'm not in Hibernation.

"I can assure you that when we get to your new home that you will be able to get plenty of sleep," Alfred promises.

"Sure. Okay."

We pile into the limo, and head off. Bruce sits adjacent from me, while Alfred drives. I sit staring, emotionless, at the floor, letting my hair shield my face.

""For the next five minutes, I sit with my elbow on the door and my chin in my hand. I stare blankly at the passing buildings and trees as rain drips down the glass, then sigh and turn back to face the car's interior.

The ride from the hotel to Bruce's house is long except for bad traffic. But hey, it's Gotham. There isn't much you can do about that. I pull my iTouch out from my tote bag and hook up my earbuds. I just hope that my battery won't wear out before we arrive at our destination.

Four Rihanna songs and a OneRepublic album later, I feel the black Ford Focus turn a corner and slow down. I pull out my earbuds. We're here.

I open the door and look up at Bruce's house and my new home. It turns out to be a four-story mansion, completed by a fountain in front.

I try my hardest not to gape. I look at Bruce with wide eyes.

"Welcome to your new home," he says.

* * *

**I didn't want to make the story too complicated with Social workers and stuff, so I just cut those parts out and just had Andy stay at a hotel. Also, I don't know how the timing for everything would work, so I just invented my own timeline.**

**Don't worry; I will add some good Bruce and Andy scenes!**

**P.S. Points to whoever can guess correctly who the one-eyed man was!**


	4. Chapter 4

**I own only what you don't recognize.**

* * *

THURSDAY, Oct. 27, 2011

A week later, I'm lounging on the sofa in a living room on the second floor, watching an old basketball game on TNT.

My bedroom is on the fourth story, the highest floor. My room is one of the ones that you might see in a Martha Stewart magazine: a circular bed with maroon and white sheets and feather pillows; a large window opposite my bed that overlooks the front lawn with a cushioned bench and pillows that match my bedding; a walk-in closet to the right of my bed with rotating hanger racks; and a mahogany desk, cork board and matching dresser.

To the left of my bed is my personal bathroom. It comes complete with a Jacuzzi tub, and a waterfall shower head decorated with LED lights that have too many settings to count. There's also a rather large full-length mirror on the door connecting the bedroom and the bathroom.

Last but not least, my room has another walk-in closet, this one on the opposite wall of the bathroom. On one wall is a set of three shelves and a rack for hanging clothes underneath. There is another space at the back of that wall reserved for a writing desk where I can draw and do my homework. On the opposite wall are a large whiteboard and a cork board.

In addition, I learned that Bruce has another ward- Dick Grayson- whose room is two down from mine. He's away now, visiting relatives in Europe **(1)**. Yes, I am a little jealous. I've never been to Europe outside of the circus tours, so I never really got to go sight-seeing. Maybe in the future, if I ask nicely...

Since my bags are already unpacked, there isn't really anything for me to do. I shuffle down the stairs and find myself in the kitchen, watching Alfred cook. "Is there anything I can do to help with dinner?" I ask the British butler.

"That's okay, Miss Andromeda," he replies. "You don't have to help."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I am."

"If you say so. Just call if you do want any assistance." With that, I return upstairs to my room and flop down on my bed. I pull out my phone and speed-dial my friend across the country in Los Gatos: Zoey Martin.

The circus traveled to San Jose about a year ago, when I was twelve. It was then that my family and I decided to break off for a year so I could attend regular school. I didn't want to go into seventh or even eighth grade, because I knew it would be too easy for me. Since I look older than I actually am, I could get away with entering Los Gatos High School as a freshman. I enrolled in color guard, which is where I met Zoey, a fellow freshman (she, however, was the normal freshman age). The experience was great (and I am now corrupted from most of my innocent childhood, but that's marching band for you!) and now I have a ton of Golden-Coast friends. After that year, though, we joined back in with the circus.

"Hello?" I hear from the other end of the line.

"Heyy!" I say as a greeting. "It's me."

"Ohmygosh Andy! How are you doing? Are you okay?" she gushes. "I'm so sorry!"

"About what?" I ask, confused. I haven't called her since _way_ before... you know.

"About..." she pauses, sighing. "About what happened!"

Now I'm _really_ confused. "How do you know? I haven't posted anything on Facebook yet, or emailed anyone, or texted anyone, or anything."

"I heard what happened on the news! The coverage must've been all across the country!"

Oh my _gawd_. "It was on the _news_? Are you friggin' kidding me?" Uhg! This can_not _be happening! But, I guess that's what happens when I'm adopted by the most famous playboy in New Jersey.

"No! You're famous now!"

"Well, can you guess who I was adopted by?" I can't help but scoff.

"Obama?"

"No, not _quite _that famous. Ever hear of Bruce Wayne?"

I hear my friend gasp and squeal excitedly on her end. "_Annie_, much? But without the bald dude and diabolical orphanage owner. He's like, _so_ hot! Get me an autograph?"

"Dude! Ew! That's just _nasty_!"

"What? He's only like, thirty!"

"'He's _so_ hot'? That's disturbing and creepy on _way_ too many levels. I'm like, basically his kid now!"

"Well, _I'm_ not."

There's a small silence. "It feels so weird. Everything in general. I'm not used to having everything done for me or having such a big bedroom or having so much more money at my disposal. Dude, I even have my own _shower_."

"I bet. It must be cool, though, too." Another pause. "So… how's everything with, uh, you-know-what?"

"We're the last two who know- for sure- about the existence of… well, yeah. Not even Stephan knows." I hear footsteps out in the hallway. I stop in my tracks and mull over what I should say next.

"I don't want to say much over the phone." My words are quick and quiet. "I can't risk a bug, even though I have no idea who would do that."

My friend gasps. "I once saw in a movie that people in super-secret government agencies listen in on conversations that people have by hacking into their cellphone lines."

I groan. "Thank you very much for making me feel _so_ much less paranoid."

"Sorry."

"Sure you are. Enough about me, now. What's the scoop on life over on the West Coast?"

"Golden. School, of course, has started. But other than that, I've just been chillin' in that Californian way that people _somehow_ manage chill, even though they're taking honors chem, algebra II, _and_ honors English."

"What about outside of school?" I ask, laughing softly. "Bacon, boys, and _Bones_?"

"The three B's necessary for my life. Not including barbecue. That would be the fourth."

See, that's the thing about Zoey Martin: she never stops eating. Like, _ever_. She doesn't need to worry, though; she plays so many sports that she rarely gains even a single pound. It's the same case with me, but I come with the extra curves.

Anyways, I'm just starting to smell food, which probably means that dinner's finally ready. "Eh, I should go now. I think it's time for dinner. I'll call you or text you or video chat you later. Bye!"

"Bye!"

I hang up and rush down the stairs. When I see Alfred setting the table, I ask, "Need any help?"

"That's okay, Miss Andromeda," he repeats. "Thank you, though. I appreciate you offering."

"No problem," I shrug. "It's just that since you're the only one here..."

"Will Bruce be coming?" I switch topics. "Or does he have to work late- _again_?"

"Ah, the latter, I'm afraid. But don't worry; he will be home later."

"Within the past week, he's had dinner with us _once_." My face turns stony. "He's never around. I don't get the point of this whole adoption thing if he isn't there, being my foster parent. I asked for someone to be there for me. He said he would be, so why isn't he? I know he's rich and famous and all that, but so is Tom Cruise. So is Emily Deschanel. So is, like, Will Smith."

_And about a million other celebrities,_ I think bitterly as I dig my knife into my steak.

* * *

That night, at about eleven o'clock, I've finished getting ready for bed, and I lounge on my bed in a tank top, sweatshirt, and sweatpants, reading _The Mysterious Benedict Society and the Perilous Journey_. Bruce only got home about ten minutes ago. I sigh, set down my book, and fire a text message to Zoey.

ME: Vid chat?

It takes two minutes for her to reply.

ZOEY: Sure. Bt isn't it L8 4 u?

ME: IDC. No skool 2morrow, no nothing 2morrow.

ZOEY: K. I'll b there in a sec.

I jump out of bed and quietly shut my door. I turn on my Dell laptop, open the program, and wait for Zoey to log in. In a couple minutes, her face is filling up almost my entire screen. A small box in a bottom corner of the window shows me.

Zoey is about three inches taller than me, has shoulder-length wavy brown hair, and somewhat pale skin. Her hazel eyes remain partially in the shadows cast by her brow bones.

"So, anything new since I last talked to you?"

"Not really. Had dinner without Bruce. Again. He got home at eleven. Again. No good-night from Bruce. _Again_. Ha! At least Alfred's here," I smirk.

"What exactly is the point of him being your guardian if he isn't there, actually _guarding_ you?"

"That's basically what I ranted earlier to Alfred. I hope _he_ didn't take that personally. I wonder what he's gonna say to Bruce, if he tells him at all."

"I don't think you should get in trouble or anything for saying that. I mean, there are dozens of other celebrities who have kids and still act or sing or be stupid or whatever. They mostly seem to manage it well."

"That's exactly my point."

She smiles. "Great minds think alike."

I return the happy gesture, even though it quickly fades. "I just miss you so much. You're the only one who understands anything I'm going through."

Tears start silently streaming down my cheeks unexpectedly. "I... right now, I just feel more alone than ever," I admit, trying not to sob. "The death of my parents tore my confidence apart. I _need_ that somebody to lean on. But apparently, that somebody _isn't_ Bruce, and for very obvious reasons. I don't even get why he even _thought_ of adopting me. Was it because Stephan's his buddy? Was it just out of sympathy or kindness? Or for publicity?"

Zoey pauses for a moment, looking thoughtful. "After our conversation earlier, I looked him up on Wikipedia. It said that his parents died, too, but when he was younger than you. They were mugged and murdered right in front of Bruce's eyes." I remember the distant look Bruce had in his gaze at the funeral. Then I think of the last sentence Zoey said.

_What?_ "Murdered?" I repeat. I wipe the last tears from my eyes.

"Yeah. Must've been traumatizing."

"Not very different from my story." I silently mull my life over in my mind when two thoughts form in my brain. I decide to reveal the first to Zoey.

"Maybe it's a possibility… that your parents would let you fly over to Gotham? During winter break. You could stay here at the manor with me."

Zoey squeals with excitement. "Ohmygosh that's _such_ a good idea! I'll have to ask my parents."

"Yeah." I extinguish the light. "I'll talk to Bruce and Alfred tomorrow, assuming that Mr. Workaholic has time to talk on a _Saturday_. Maybe if I can tear his focus away from the basketball game for long enough."

Zoey laughs quietly. "Ah, so he's a typical guy."

"Ya think? You shoulda seen him last night! It was the Nicks versus the Lakers. He was pretty pissed when the Lakers won. They _always_ win!"

"I saw the game. Seventeen-point lead at one point. Wow."

"Yeah, I know, right?" I smirk. "Man, we are such dudes. Well, I should probably go to bed. It's almost twelve here."

"Yeah. Goodnight, Andy. And don't forget to ask!"

I giggle in agreement. "I won't." I watch as the window closes automatically. I slap the laptop shut and tiptoe to my dresser. I pick up a cylindrical piece of glass approximately five inches tall and two and a half inches at its widest diameter. Inside is a jellyfish made of bubbles, suspended inside the glass. It looks like one of those decorations that humans sometimes have in their offices or bedrooms, but I know better.

I light up my hand with energy, and the jellyfish comes to life. It twirls and floats around the glass, sometimes bumping into the sides. This is what we, back on Astridareus, called an _illuminá essentiae_, or light being. It feeds on the energy given off from my hands. Just watching it helps me think. It gets my mind off of most annoying things in life.

The second idea that I have is that my parents' deaths _weren't_ random freak accidents. Before I met Zoey, I had two other friends, one in Iowa and one in Nevada. Both of them knew my secret, and both of them died. Their deaths were meant to look like accidents: both car crashes.

But I know better.

* * *

**Illuminá Essentiae (ih-LOO-minh-ah ehs-SENT-shiah): from illuminábit essentia: Light Essence**

**(1) Yes, Dick actually is visiting his relatives in Europe, not on a secret Young Justice mission. At this point in time, YJ hasn't been formed yet. I will, however, write about how that comes into play later.**

**Reviews are encouraged!**


	5. Chapter 5

**I pwn, but I don't own. Only what you don't recognize is mine, blah blah blah Ke$ha.**

* * *

FRIDAY, Oct. 28, 2011

The next morning, I wake up annoyingly early. I groan and slowly roll out of bed. I splash my face with cool water and run my brush through my hair before putting on my fuzzy pink bathrobe and trudging out of my room, down the hall, and to the elevator. When I arrive on the third level, I make my way to Bruce's bedroom. Maybe I can talk to him before work?

I knock softly on his door. "Bruce?" I whisper. When I don't hear a response, I push open the door and step into his room. I don't see him in his bed. I exit to go downstairs, but I bump into Bruce instead.

"Oh, hello there," I greet in a sugar-coated tone. "I was just hoping I could talk to you…"

"About what?" he asks.

"Well… I was talking to my friend who lives in California- her name is Zoey- and I- we- were wondering if she could come and visit and that she could maybe possibly stay here at the manor…?" I smile sweetly and bat my eyes. It usually worked with my parents.

"I-it would only be for about a week, maybe," I quickly conclude, "and she could stay in my room. 'Cause there would be less of a mess to clean up and be cooler and feel more like a sleepover in that awesome stay-up-until-three-in-the-morning way. But I'm not saying we'll _always_ stay up till three… only sometimes." I smile toothily.

"When would this be?"

"During winter break. Maybe over New Year's Eve. Pleeeaaase?" I stick out my bottom lip.

"Hmmm… I'll give you my decision by dinner time."

_You mean you'll actually be eating dinner with me and Alfred?_ I think.

"Okay," I say, feeling somewhat disappointed, but still a little bit hopeful.

"Well, I should probably be off to work now. I'll see you later tonight."

"Okay. Good-bye." I shuffle closer to Bruce and give him a hug. After about a second, I feel him hug back, somewhat awkwardly. I pull away and scurry back to the elevator without looking back.

When I'm back in my room, I grab my phone and flop on my bed.

ME: He says he'll decide l8r.

ZOEY: K. Mom said she's OK w/ it. Just needs Bruce's approval.

I sigh and grab a book to read. It is going to be a long day, waiting for Bruce's decision.

I eventually get dressed and meander downstairs to get some food. After that, I laze around, just watching television or going on Facebook or reading.

* * *

At about six o'clock, I'm watching an old Supernatural episode when Alfred summons me. "Miss Andromeda, could I see you for a minute?"

"Uh, sure," I respond with just a hint of uncertainty. I turn off the TV and follow the butler out of the room and down to the ground floor. He leads me into a small room.

It's a study, with a small bookshelf, a grandfather clock, and a desk and swivel chair taking up the wall to my right. The wall opposite the door is taken up by a larger bookshelf and candle holders attached to the wall. A puffy maroon overstuffed chair faces the wall to my left, which has a fireplace built into it. Above the fireplace is an oil painting of an old photograph my foster mother and father. The image is of them standing together, hugging, gazing out.

"I… I don't know what to say," I stammer quietly. "Well, thank you, I guess. But still…"

"I'm glad you find it to your liking," Alfred replies.

My friends' deaths made me pissed, but this is crossing the line. What if Zucco is involved in the murders? "Some day, I'll find Zucco. I'll make him pay."

Alfred doesn't say anything except for: "We should prepare for dinner. Maybe Master Bruce will be joining us…"

"Maybe I'll grow a third arm," I retort sarcastically.

* * *

That night, I contact Zoey through my webcam.

"What did he say about me coming over?" she asks.

"It's fine, as long as I keep my grades up. _That _shouldn't be too hard, though, considering I'm from an alien planet where the technology is _millenniums_ beyond where Earth will be in fifty years."

Zoey smirks. "So when will you be entering school?"

"Next semester, so I have quite a while, actually. Alfred's homeschooling me right now. You know what..." I trail off, looking at the clock at the bottom of the computer screen. Nine o'clock.

"Wait here for a minute." I stand up and dash out of my room to Bruce's study. When I arrive, he is nowhere to be found. Of course. As I jog back to my room, I pass Alfred. "Do you know where Bruce is?" I ask.

"I'm sorry, Miss Andromeda, but he is at an important meeting at work," the English butler explains. "He called to say it's running late and he won't be home for another twenty minutes."

"Okay." Slightly disappointed, I hurry back to my room and see Zoey fidgeting onscreen. "Never mind. Sorry."

"What were you planning?" She raises her eyebrow.

"I was thinking that Bruce and your mom could talk about the trip over the video feed. But he isn't home- another late-night meeting," I finish with disgust and annoyance.

"_Another_ one?"

"Yup. So much for father-daughter bonding time. But get this- he actually ate dinner with me and Al."

My best friend gasps over-dramatically. "Shocking!"

"Right?"

"Wait. Doesn't he have another ward? Some boy?"

"Yeah. Dick Grayson. Why?"

"Where is he? You've never mentioned him."

"Oh. He's in Europe, visiting relatives. He'll be back in like, a week or two. Something like that."

"I wonder if he's cute..." Zoey smirks, her eye twinkling.

I chuckle. "How awkward would that be if _I_ thought so?"

"Right?"

* * *

MONDAY, Oct. 31, 2011

That day, Bruce and I go downtown at about four-thirty and just kind of wander around. It's a bit awkward. I don't feel like going into any of the shops (strange, for me), but walking around in the crisp autumn air is refreshing. We stop at a Starbucks to get hot chocolate. When we enter, some of the costumers (okay, _most_ of the costumers) glance our way and lower their voices. I nervously fidget with the sleeve of my black trench coat. If I focus my hearing enough, I can catch snippets of their conversations.

"Look- it's Bruce Wayne..."

"...with that girl he took in..."

"...Andromeda, I think..."

"...parents died..."

"...already has a ward..."

I pull out my iPhone and go onto Facebook. I'd already posted about the events that had taken place after my parents' deaths, and I had gotten twenty comments within the next thirty minutes. A lot of them were condolences, and much of them were people freaking out over Bruce Wayne's decision of adopting me.

I tap the box to type my status in and post, "Out w/ Bruce. So. Many. Stares!" before slipping the device back into the front right pocket of my jeans. We get to the counter, and I order a small peppermint hot chocolate while Bruce settles for a medium white chocolate mocha. It doesn't really make anything better when the person behind the counter shouts out, "TALL PEPPERMINT HOT CHOCOLATE AND MEDIUM WHITE CHOCOLATE MOCHA FOR BRUCE WAYNE!" at the top of his lungs.

I'm tempted to make a snide remark, but the quietness of the store reminds me: every little move matters. So instead, I smile and grab the warm cup before turning to exit. Before Bruce and I can leave, we hear a deep voice call, "Bruce!"

We turn around and see a man in a navy suit walk towards us, careful not to spill his hot drink. His dark hair is gelled back, and a pair of glasses sit on his nose. He's handsome, with his strong jaw and bright eyes. He looks a bit familiar, even though I'm sure I've never seen him before. He smiles, revealing perfect teeth.

"Clark!" Bruce greets. "How are you?"

"I'm doing fine, what about you?"

"Good, too."

Clark turns to me. "Who's this?"

"This is my ward, Andromeda Sims."

"Hey," I smile slightly. "Andy, please."

Clark returns the smile. "How do you like living with Bruce so far?"

During the conversation, we've exited Starbucks and are now walking along East Main Street. I hesitate when Clark asks me the question. How do I… okay, seriously?

"It's… different," I admit. I sense Bruce grow slightly irritated. I reach for his hand, and he relaxes. Magic touch, or what? I've finished my hot chocolate, so I toss the cup into a nearby trash can. "Can we stop at Ruby's? I'm hungry."

Bruce looks down at me. "But you just had a hot chocolate. Aren't you full?"

"I'm a thirteen-year-old girl. I'm _never_ full." I bat my eyelashes.

Clark and Bruce chuckle.

* * *

Five minutes later, the three of us are sitting in a booth towards the back of the diner. A waitress struts over and asks through chomps on her bubble gum, "Wouldjya like to order?"

"Yes," I answer. "Could I get a cheeseburger- with cheddar- and a small Mountain Dew?"

"Sure, sweetie." She takes my menu and turns to Clark. "Anything for you, sir?"

"No thank you."

"And you, sir?"

"I'm good," my guardian replies. "Thank you."

After the waitress leaves, Clark says, "Bruce, I need to talk to you."

"I'm guessing this is my cue to exit stage right," I comment, switching to the next booth. I take my paper placemat with me, but glare at the crayons already set on the table. Deciding to put off drawing, I pull out my phone again and speed-dial Zoey. It's around three PM there, so I don't have to worry about her being in school.

"Hello?" I hear the feminine voice on the other end of the line ask.

"Yo, Zo." I greet her enthusiastically, but I keep my voice quiet.

"Howzit goin?"

"Good." I gaze somberly out the window. "It's really cloudy over here, pretty dark for six o'clock. A storm's coming."

The line is silent, giving the statement a greater sense of darkness and foreboding than intended.

"Ohmygawd, I can_not _wait for winter break! I can't believe that he actually said 'yes!'"

"I know, right? I had a hard time believing it, too. Okay, I've never been on the East Coast during Christmas before, but I heard that it's wonderful here. You might find it really cool. Maybe me, too, even though I'm technically Jewish." We giggle.

"So how's the alien thing-" she starts, but I cut her off.

"Not talking. Public place. Never know…" I look up. "There's a… I'll text you. Bye." I hang up and immediately open my text messages and fire one to Zoey:

ME: Clark Kent. Idk who he is.

ZOEY: Reporter 4 Daily Planet. Dad luvs his articles.

ME: Talkin w/ B. Looks vaguely familiar, bt I've never seen him b4.

ZOEY: U sure?

ME: Ya.

ZOEY: OH! I kno y!

ME: Ya?

ZOEY: Deja vu. Glitch in the Matrix. Dayumn!

I giggle to myself at the joke. I look up and see Bruce and Clark in a heated discussion, no doubt about adopting me. After replying "Lolzzz" to Zoey, I eavesdrop on their conversation.

"…neglecting League duties…" League duties? Like, a business or corporation league? If they even _have_ those.

"…see that I'm busy now, Kent…"

"…getting distracted during an important meeting like that isn't like you…"

"…needs someone to care for her, can't you see that…"

I could somehow tell that they were arguing over me. Is Bruce's business really that demanding? I open a message to Bruce.

ME: Stop arguing. )-; both of u. Yes, it's easy to tell- I'm not blind.

I see Bruce take out his phone and look back apologetically at me, but I am too engrossed in a round of Fruit Ninja to see.

My food arrives, and I grin at the waitress and say, "Thanks."

"Enjoy," she winks.

ME: I g2g. Txt u soon. Byye ily 3 x1000 xoxo & all tht gushy stuff!

ZOEY: Ya. Txt u soon! Byye!

I return my phone to its pocket and dig in. The food is great, and when I'm done, I return to my spot next to Bruce in his booth. I tear the paper place mat in half hamburger-style and take one of the pieces with me.

"May I borrow your pencil?" I ask Clark with the sweetest tone I can muster up.

"Of course." He pulls out a black mechanical pencil and hands it to me. "How come?"

I take the pencil and look at the reporter thoughtfully. "See that clock behind me? On the wall, above the counter there."

He tilts his chin up, glancing at the clock. "Yeah?"

"Good." I look down and start sketching. His head was turned for barely a second, but that's all I need. Thank you, photographic memory. I rapidly shift my gaze between Clark and my sketch, trying to take as much in as I can. At one point, I stare so intensely at him that he almost flinches under my scrutinizing eyes. The curl of his hair, his strong jaw, and inquisitive eyes remind me how much I miss drawing. This is the first sketch I've done in my new life.

Clark and Bruce stare at me, even after I've set the pencil down and whispered, "Done." The waitress, who came to drop off the bill, grows wide-eyed when she sees the sketch.

"You related to Van Gogh by any chance?" she asks.

_For some reason, I strongly doubt that. *cough* ALIEN._

* * *

**The diner scene was inspired by a passage from "A Growing Robin" by Fighter1357. In case you're wondering, I asked the author about it and they were totally cool! Go check out Fighter1357's page- this author has great stories!**

**In case you're wondering, no I did not forget about Andy being an alien with powers. Those scenes are coming shortly!**


	6. Chapter 6

**I wish I owned Batman and the JL. That would be cool, wouldn't it?**

* * *

TUESDAY, Nov. 1, 2011

I trot lightly down the stairs and head to the kitchen. I'm wearing a dark purple long-sleeved V-neck with a thick band of silver sequins lining the neck and Los Gatos High 2014 sweatpants. My choice of footwear is a pair of black Vans. I had taken a shower last night and left my hair in several tiny braids, a trick to give my hair a crimped look. The curls bounce merrily around my face as I continue my journey to find a satisfying mug of hot chocolate: the only remedy for a headache caused by shitty weather. Like my poetry?

When I'm about twenty feet outside the kitchen, I can clearly hear the conversation that Bruce and Alfred are having, thanks to my super-hearing:

"... don't know what to say to her, Alfred."

"You could just be forthcoming about it."

"I know, but that would probably just make us _both_ feel uncomfortable."

What are they talking about?

Oh my god.

Did he find out my secret?

_Oh no._

Yeah, so I decide to panic. I lift off and fly speedily back to my room without Bruce or Alfred seeing. I have to restrain myself from slamming the door shut. I sink to the carpeted floor against the dark wood and try to calm down. After a minute I hear footsteps coming up the stairs. As they reach level ground, I can tell they belong to Alfred by the length and slight shuffle. I hear them fade down the hallway.

Oh thank Gawd.

I wait, taking a few more deep breaths before exiting my room for the second time. I retrace my steps, but this time, I enter the kitchen. I glance warily at Bruce, who is sitting at the head of the dining room table, as I reach up to grab a mug from a high cabinet. I pray that maybe he'll be too engrossed in the newspaper to talk to me, but when he gets up to put his dish in the sink, that hope shatters.

"Andromeda…" he begins. He leans against the counter. I can tell how uncomfortable he must be.

I turn around and place the mug on the granite and mirror his stance. "Yeah?"

"I need to talk to you about something."

Uh-oh. "Sure."

My guardian sighs. "Do you... cut yourself?" His eyes are full of worry, and his tone is nervous and hesitant.

What? _That's_ what they were talking about? "No-o-o..." I elongate the word.

"You always seem to be wearing long sleeves," he reasons.

That's because of the markings on my arms- I don't want to take any chances right now, when my emotions are a bit unstable due to current events. "I may be somewhat depressed, but I'm not suicidal." I roll up my sleeves and hold my arms out in front of me. Not a scar in sight, if you don't count the bruises. "These right here are from color guard- I spin sabre and rifle. Other than that, I just get cold easily." Not a lie; I don't like the cold much.

"Okay." Bruce straightens. "Sorry. I just needed to know, Andromeda."

"S'okay." I step closer to him and wrap my arms around his waist. "And for the future? Call me Andy."

* * *

WEDNESDAY, Nov. 2, 2011

I frown at my mechanical pencil. My last piece of lead _just_ broke. Ugh. I search my desk, but find nothing. Maybe Bruce has some... I leave my bedroom and silently make my way to Bruce's study. When I grow close enough, I can hear him arguing over the phone.

"…stop bothering me about this? I'm fine… I know, Kent, but you know why-… well, just tell Flash that I'm only human... I just don't want the rest of the league to find out so soon, considering how _you_ reacted..."

I don't hear the rest of the conversation; I'm racing back to my bedroom. The Flash… the league- no, capital-"L"-League… the Justice League!

Ohmygawd.

I grab the drawing of Clark Kent I have from the diner. I plop down in my swivel chair and turn on my Dell laptop. I open a page in Google Chrome, click "Images," and type in "Superman." I select the biggest image and zoom in on the superhero's face. I hold up my drawing to compare.

Oh. My. Friggin'. _Gawd._

Why didn't I see this earlier? I _must_ be going blind! Any idiot could see the perfect resemblance between the reporter and the hero. And Bruce! His silhouette is the exact same as Batman's- that's why the man standing up in the tent so long ago looked vaguely familiar. And, with all of Batman's expensive and high-tech gadgets, one would _have_ to be a billionaire to fund all of the equipment!

But that isn't what's worrying me. I'm possibly plowing my touch! I usually figure these things out sooner. As I mentally kick myself, I remind myself that 1) I was focusing on currant events, and 2) I was too sad to think about it.

But should I tell Bruce? I guess he'll eventually find out anyways. I print the picture, take it and my drawing, and storm out of my room and make my way to Bruce's study. Coincidentally, Clark is discussing something- most likely the Justice League- with my guardian. I barge through the doors, interrupting the argument.

"Is something wrong, Andy?" Bruce furrows his eyebrows when he sees the stony expression on my face.

I hold up the two images side-by-side. "Try to spot the differences," I smirk. "Oh wait- there is none, _Batman_!"

"So you figured it out?" he asks, completely composed.

"Yeah." I turn to Clark. "It's gonna take more than a pair of _glasses_ to hide the truth from me."

"But how did you…" the "reporter" gasps in awe.

"See, I knew your face looked totally familiar, but I'd never heard of Clark Kent before, let alone _seen_ him. You even smiled in this way that... you know? Then I kinda figured your jawline, your cheekbones, and general features looked a _lot_ like Superman's. I imagined you without your glasses, and I finally got it when I searched this image," I hold up the image of Clark as Superman.

"What about me?" Bruce questions.

"Everything! Your stride length, the weight of your footfall, your height, your jawline, your general figure. Also, you'd kinda _have_ to be filthy stinkin' rich to fund all those gadgets and everything. Also, does this make Dick Robin?"

"Yes. Very acute observational skills."

I smile.

"There's something you're hiding from us," Clark announces. "Your body's heat signature is... _different_... from a normal human's."

I bite my lip.

No more hiding.

First, I take out my brown-colored contacts. Then I reach down my shirt and pull out the two necklaces I always keep around my neck. The first is the key to the briefcase that holds my weapons and other tools and essentials. The second is a pure heart-shaped diamond measuring about an inch and a half in height. As I hold it in my hand, it starts to glow blue from the inside. This is the necklace I mentioned earlier, the one that is the key to my disguise.

The transformation takes two heartbeats. My skin grows crystalline and looks almost transparent as it seems to glow with a sky-blue tinge. My hair turns pearly, almost iridescent or gossamer. My arms become decorated in the marks of my energy-based abilities, and the swirls that come with astral projection are revealed at the center of my forehead. I turn to Bruce, holding out my forearms for him to see.

"This is why I always wore long sleeves," I explain. "I didn't want to take any chances."

Clark and Bruce stare in awe. "I had no idea…" the latter of the two breathes.

"Well, obviously," I snap. "That was _kinda_ the point!"

"What happened?" Clark asks. "How did you end up here?"

"I'll show you.

"Come," I instruct as I point to a spot on the rug right in front of me. "Sit." The two men follow my instructions. I move out of the chair and sit down, cross-legged in front of it, before placing my left hand at Bruce's right temple, and my right hand at Clark's left temple. The ability of astral projection also allows me to project images into someone else's mind, and this is what I plan on doing.

I first introduce them to my real mom and dad, the rulers of the small planet. I show them the plants, the animals, the landscapes and the horizon view of our two moons, Lychnus and Caelus, sharing the sky.

I then show them the modern cities: skyscrapers as far as any eye can see, hovercrafts and grand ships sailing on sparkling rivers and oceans, the mansions, cathedrals, and castles that I visited.

I share all of the technological advancements: holographic cellular phones, the dashboards of the newest airships, the computers with projected screens and keyboards. I show them every beautiful memory I have of my home. I then show them the devastating war.

I relive the fires, the pain, the death and destruction, and the feeling of not knowing whether I'd see a friend or family member the next day or not. I visualize the day the enemy had stormed the castle where I lived, of how my parents had already prepared an escape pod for me. They had set it on a course headed straight for Earth.

I give them the last image I ever saw on my planet: my parents whirling around to see several enemy troops storming through the door just as I left at the speed of sound.

I can't help myself; I lower my hands and break the mental connection. Tears flow down my face, and I look away. But before Bruce or Clark can say or do anything, I relink our minds and continue.

I start with the day my Earth parents found me. The memories of the circus and dozens of friends I've made continue after. I show Zoey, how we met and how she's still my best friend. I then reveal how I'd met two other girls later that year, both of whom grew to be close enough to me to know my secret, how they both died in suspicious car crashes a week apart, and my doubt at the fact that both of them were "accidents."

I then give the heroes my nonstop paranoia following those events, my constant worry for Zoey, the endless nights of staring at the stars or drawing a memory. I give them images of me creating the fake documents just in case, of checking on my stash of gleaming alien weapons that I used to be so, _so_ afraid to use.

I cut to the day of my parents' deaths. I show them how Stevie looked after me right before Bruce adopted me, then how I felt so alone when he wasn't really there to do anything fun with me. I recall something Zoey said: "What's the point of him being your guardian if he isn't guarding you?" During this part, I push too hard and I feel them wince in the slight pain.

The last thing I give them is the chorus of the song "September" by Daughtry, which is probably one of the only things that kept my sanity intact for those past several days.

I lower my hands for the last time. I had kept my eyes closed for the entire second part, and when I open them, I see that both Bruce's and Clark's attempts to conceal awe and surprise have failed miserably.

I turn back to my human form. "That's everything. My entire life," I whisper through my tears. More tears fall at first, and then I start sobbing almost uncontrollably. I sit there, shaking. Suddenly Bruce is there, wrapping his strong arms around me, holding me close.

"Shh. It's okay," he whispers. "I'm here, now. I've got you, Sweetie. It's okay." He waits there for me to release all the sadness I'd bottled up, all the fear and anger.

When I'm finished, I straighten as I wipe my eyes and say, "Thanks. I... I needed that."

"Hey, it's okay, Sweetie," Bruce says softly to me. "Don't worry."

I sniffle and nod.

After a couple minutes, Clark, who was leaning against the wall, straightens and declares, "I should probably return to Metropolis. They might need me." He walks out of the study and disappears.

I turn back to Bruce. Now that I know he's Batman...

I open my mouth, but before I can say anything, my guardian interrupts. "You're going to ask if you can work side-by-side with me now, right?"

I clamp my jaw and raise my eyebrow at him like, well, _can_ I?

"Well," he pauses, "I guess it all really depends on the level of your skill. Depending on that, I could talk to the League. They just might allow you a membership next year, on your eighteenth birthday."

"Oooh!" I exclaim.

"That means you'll have to train with me three hours a day, for six days a week."

I gape. "Exactly what _kind_ of training?"

"Stealth, weapons, hand-to-hand, hacking, diffusing bombs, how to spot a piece of evidence, the works. Everything you'll need to become a crime-fighting detective."

"How about, two weeks of that, minus stealth and hand-to-hand, and add in powers in their place."

"No, but I'm willing to spend less time on those if you really believe that you are capable."

"Otherwise, I wouldn't have suggested it."

"Fair enough."

"Then after those two weeks, I have a test- I'm not sure how long- but I have to be able to travel from point A to point B without being intercepted by you. That part will take place at night."

Bruce mulls this thought over for a couple moments before agreeing. "That sounds fair enough."

* * *

**Yeah, she did figure that out kinda fast. I wanted her to have the mind capacity similar to that of Sherlock Holmes, how he can figure out a person's height by the length of their stride, that sort of thing.**

**In addition, my idea for her alien form was inspired a bit by Emma Frost from MARVEL Comics and the girl Shaggy falls in love with from "Scooby-Doo and the Alien Invaders" in case you're wondering.**


	7. Chapter 7

**I DON'T OWN BATMAN ETC.**

**I decided to celebrate the New Year by adding a new chapter that's WWAAYY overdue. And, to make it up, this chap is longer!**

**You're welcome.**

* * *

SUNDAY, Nov. 6, 2011

"Again."

I whirl around, executing a kick to Bruce's stomach.

We had just begun training yesterday. We are sparring in Bruce's gym, located on the second floor. The room is about two times the size of my bedroom, and painted a bright white. Blue wrestling mats cover the middle area, while various weights, treadmills, and bicycles sit closer to the walls.

I'm wearing black yoga pants and a maroon tank-top over a black racer-back Under Armor sports bra. On my feet are a pair of blue and white Pumas. Bruce is wearing a simple white T-shirt and a pair of navy-blue basketball shorts. His sneakers are a pair of black Nike's.

He dodges my kick, before lunging and trying to land a punch on my face, but I turn and grab his wrist with my right hand. Using the momentum from both my turn and his lunge, I force him into a wall. I then yank him forward into a side-kick while releasing my grip on his wrist, which causes him to stumble back into the same wall. Before he can do anything, though, I rush forward, grab his neck with my left hand, and raise my right hand, which is loaded with a glowing energy bolt.

"Good," my new mentor comments as I release him from my near-death grip and lower my fist. "With your abilities, the final exam could possibly be held next week."

My face- both literally and figuratively- lights up in excitement and anticipation. That would mean only one week of training instead of two! "Really?"

"Yes. Now, again."

* * *

WEDNESDAY, Nov. 9, 2011

Darkness, everywhere. Swirling around me, consuming me in despair. Sadness engulfs me, a heavy weight on my shoulders and chest. Glimpses of my real parents and brother flood my vision, along with the faces of my Earth parents. I try to fly to them, my arms outstretched, but they grow further and further away from me.

"Materra! Abbe!" I call out in desperation. They can't leave me- not again! "Come back! No!"

A blazing fire. A gunshot.

A voice calls out. "Andy!"

"Don't leave me!"

"ANDROMEDA!"

I gasp as my eyes fly open. Tears start streaming down my face. I turn and sob into someone's blazer. Bruce. His arms are wrapped around me, holding me close to him.

"Hush, it was only a nightmare," he whispers. "I'm here now. You're safe."

_Safe_. I only cry harder. Even though it's a lie, I _do_ feel safer in Bruce's arms. After a few minutes, we're still holding each other when my guardian asks, "Will you be okay?"

"Can you stay?" I sniff. "Just for a bit longer?"

"Yes."

* * *

SATURDAY, Nov. 12. 2011

I sit hovering above my bed, meditating. It's ten o'clock right now. One hour until my final test, my official initiation.

The rules are simple: avoid being found by Batman for one hour. Stay inside the Newtown community, just above Crime Alley. This gives me about a mile and a half area. No staying inside buildings, and only use my powers for camouflaging purposes, not to manipulate his mind. Save a civilian, earn extra credit. I am to simply take care of the problem, leave him or her tied down at the scene of the crime, and then activate a tracer and leave it with them to make it easier for Batman to find the offender.

I wanted to wear something that I wouldn't be recognized in, and something that wouldn't restrict my physical and alien abilities. I had searched through my show costumes that were made with alien fabric and stumbled upon the silver ensemble that I was supposed to wear the night... the night that my parents died.

_Yes, _I decide. _This is the perfect occasion._ I pull out the outfit off the hanger and slip it on. It fits me perfectly. To wear on my feet, I choose a pair of white specially-designed Astridarin combat boots: they reach just above my knees, and come up in a sharp point. They are enhanced with a unique Astridarin metal stronger than diamonds. Even though they are high-heeled, they are quite comfortable. I can walk perfectly in them, and still kick any criminal's sorry ass.

I have my outfit together, but I feel like someone could still recognize me. The closest thing I have to a mask is a pair of very high-tech wrap-around sunglasses made of an alien crystal, and that also comes with built-in Bluetooth and a retractable microphone. I can change the color of the lenses, and the vision to x-ray, ultraviolet, infrared, thermal, and night. In addition, it comes with a tiny six-gigabyte flash drive, and I can program it to give me visuals on directions; blueprints and schematics; how fast I'm flying, my altitude, and my ETA; and any text messages, callers, and more.

Perfect.

I put them on and decide to check my alien form just in case. Standing in front of the full-length mirror, I grasp the pendant around my neck in my right fist and let it transform me into my true self. I still look great in the halter, miniskirt, arm gauntlets, and boots, if I do say so myself. This form will be very useful for camouflage.

Last but not least, I grab my light blue leather belt. I stock it with three knives, two NeuroBlasters, and two extra charges from my home planet. They aren't too dangerous; they're only stunguns. Last but not least, I grab the ten tracers I was given and store them in a pouch next to my earbuds.

Now that I'm all set, I open my window, climb out, and soar off.

As soon as I take to the deep purple sky, I turn into my alien form for easier camouflage. A trick I learned back on Astridareus during the war, I manipulate the light around me to pass through me instead of reflect off of me. It's simple, but also very effective. A few minutes later, I radio Bruce through my glasses' Bluetooth system.

"I'm out."

"Good," he responds. "You know the drill, right?"

"Yup." I pop the"P" as I scan the ground for any endangered civilians.

"Good. I'll be out in a minute. Over and out."

I dive down and land on the rooftop of a trashy four-story hotel. I switch my vision to the nighttime setting and scan the surrounding streets for any criminal activity. Seeing nothing, I float over a couple streets and land on another roof. I look over at Pike Road, then follow it as it turns into a sketchy-looking alleyway.

Lady walks by, all alone. She passes the opening of the alley, a creeper with a ski mask pursues, et cetera.

Of course.

Keeping my visual contact, I leap onto the next rooftop and drop down just as I see the thug about to attack. He appears to be startled at first, but he quickly regains his composure.

"Who... _what_ the hell are _you_ supposed to be?" he demands upon seeing my crystalline blue skin.

"I'm a new hero, partner to Batman," I state simply. I turn to the shocked woman and tell her to hurry home. Thankfully, she does.

"_You_?" the thug laughs. "Partner to _Batman_? Ha! I could easily beat you any day!"

I put on a defeated look. "Well, you _are_ much taller than me, and you do have much more muscle than me." I smirk as I lunge forward at a superhuman speed and ram my shoulder into his gut. I whirl around him as he doubles over and bring my elbow down on the back of his neck.

"And yet, here you are, doubled in pain, and here _I_ am, and I haven't even broken a sweat." I straighten before whipping out a stungun and shooting him once. I haul him over to lean him up against a lamppost and take out a length of titanium-weave cord from a pouch on my belt. I use one of my daggers to cut a bit off, and then use that to tie up the goon. I pull out one of the tracers given to me, activate it, and stick it on the lamppost. I'm long gone when Batman arrives just a couple minutes later- or so he thinks.

I keep hidden in the shadows, watching every move he makes. He calls Commissioner Gordon, pauses for a second to look around, then shoots a grappling hook and swings off into the distance.

_So THAT'S how he travels so quickly,_ I think to myself. I wait about two minutes before stepping out of the shadows, when I'm positive that he's gone for sure. I shoot up into the sky as I convert back to my alien form. I search the surrounding area for places where Bruce might look for me. Positive he isn't by the old church, I fly north to the Roger's Yacht Basin. I land gracefully and silently on top of an abandoned-looking warehouse and almost immediately catch a voice coming from inside.

"...and Batsy will be walking straight into my little trap!" The voice cackles evilly.

I can't help but wonder: the voice sounds familiar... male, kinda scratchy, calls him "Batsy"...

The Joker.

_Shit, man! _I switch the Bluetooth back on and immediately call Bruce.

"What is it?" comes his deep voice.

"Uh, yeah, we might have to hold off on this initiation thing," I whisper worriedly.

"Why's that?"

"I accidentally stumbled upon an 'old friend' that you would be _very_ interested to see." As I'm saying this, I switch on a tracking device and clutch it tightly in the palm of my hand. Just a few minutes later, I catch the faint _thump_ of someone landing on the roof behind me.

As he walks towards me, he says, "Smart thinking, not going in by yourself and calling me instead."

I let out a soft, half-hearted chuckle. "I was _so_ not gonna get caught up in _that right there_."

"Did you manage to hear anything?"

"Yeah. You're _apparently_ gonna fall for their plan, and walk right into- and I quote- 'my little trap'."

"Hmm..." Batman pauses for a moment to think. "I don't want you to go in immediately-"

"Wait!" I excitedly interrupt him. "I have a plan!"

"Yes?"

"I was thinking that I could go in, they would 'overpower' me, and then I would call out and we'd go all ape-shit on their sorry tails."

"Hmm..." he says again. "I don't know..."

I pout. "Fine. I'll just wait here."

And I do? Of course not!

My mentor goes in and five minutes later, I drop down to the ground. I sneak around to the front and peak in through the doorway. Batman is being held by two of the Joker's thugs while the menace himself is bragging about how much easier this was, so now he doesn't have to waste more bombs. Harley Quinn is sitting in a folding chair next to Joker, and on the other side of her are four more goons. Not really stopping to think of a better than go in and attack, I burst through the door, startling everyone but Batman. I fire bolts of concussive energy at the henchmen holding Batman and at those who pick up machine guns, and then deal with the two who chose to use crowbars instead.

I charge the first crony, who's kinda fat, similar to the move I used when dealing with the mugger earlier that night. Winded, he drops his crowbar, and I take those few seconds of him being stunned to grab the other guy's metal pole as he tries to bring it down over my head. I heat up my hand, which causes the metal to grow hotter and hotter until the goon releases his end and gasps at the pain. I let my hand cool down as I smack the thug upside the head with it, and then ram it into the other guy's crotch as hard as I can.

During this time, Batman was taking care of the thugs who decided to be stupid and use firearms. I strut almost aimlessly up to him as he grabs a thug by his collar. As the creep is swung around, I take this opportunity to deliver a powerful tornado kick to his jaw, most likely resulting in its break. Batman flings the unconscious crony aside before scoping out the warehouse and then turning to me.

"Can you get Harley? I'm going after the Joker."

I grin cockily. "No prob."

"Call if you need anything." He turns and follows his arch nemesis.

I exit through the door I used before and shoot up into the sky to get a better view of any escape routes that Harley could've used. "Now," I mutter to myself, "if I were a crazy deranged chick, where would I-" But before I can finish, I spot a purple and orange hippie van swerve dangerously around the corner.

_Eureka._

I follow her crazy-ass driving down a couple streets before diving down and landing lightly on top of the van's metal roof. I hold on, waiting until she finishes wheelie-ing around a turn onto Chestnut Avenue. I roll off the roof and land in a crouch behind the car. I raise my arms and fire a bolt of energy at the tires. They blow up, causing Harley's reckless driving to make her go crashing into a lamppost. I jog a few steps up to the car before slowing to a walk, and see that Harley is throwing a temper tantrum. I watch, very amused, as she busts her door open, turns around, and kicks the side of the van. All the while, she's screeching.

"This stupid car! It _never_ works! Is there _anything_ it can do right?!"

I snicker. "You know, your New York accent only makes it funnier."

Hearing my voice, she whirls around and glares at me. "YOU HURT MY PUDDIN!" she screams at me. She rushes to the back doors, throws them open, and pulls out a rocket launcher. Before she can aim it properly, I ready another bolt and fire it at her, being careful of the rocket. The bolt isn't that big or powerful; she only drops the rocket and stumbles back into the car. By now, her two hefty sidekicks (Judy and Punch, I think) had made their way out of the van. I continue to walk forward as they run at me, their intentions probably to pummel me. They're gonna be sorely disappointed.

As soon as the henchmen come close enough, I kick Punch in the gut as hard as I can and deliver a powerful hook to Judy's jaw. The latter is instantly out cold, but I have to take another whack at Punch to knock him out. Harley has gotten up and now dashes over to take a swing at me. I catch her fist in my hand and use that momentum to yank her into my fist. There's a sickening _crack_ as my hand collides with her nose. That in addition to her head hitting the pavement as hard as it does is enough to put her out, too. I tie her up, along with her thugs, who I give an extra blast of my NeuroBlaster, only strong enough to make sure they stay unconscious.

I sigh as I switch on the communicator built in to my glasses. "Yo, Bats?"

"Mhmm?" is his gruff reply.

"I got Harley and her fat thugs."

"Call Gordon. Be there in a second." He then closes the link.

_Probably fighting Joker,_ I assume. And now, to call the Commissioner. Wonder what he's gonna think about me at first sight. I dial his number and he answers after three rings.

"Commissioner Gordon speaking."

"Yeah, um..." I babble as I think of what to say. "Hi, I'm working with Batman, and I just caught Harley. And her two thugs. I'm on Chestnut, between, Second and, uh, Gilmore."

"Is this a prank of some sort?" he demands. "Because if it is, I can have you arrested."

"Of course not, come on down and see for yourself," I huff.

"Oka-a-y... I'll be over there with a couple squad cars ASAP."

"'Kay." I hang up. Just as I do, though, Batman comes swinging in on a grappling hook, the Joker slung over his shoulder, unconscious. "Hey."

"Hey's for horses," he smirks at me as he dumps the Clown Prince of Crime onto the asphalt. He quickly becomes serious though "Have you called Gordon?"

"Yeah. At first he thought I was prank-calling him, but he should be on his way."

"So, how did you like your first mission?"

"Not bad. Oh, look," I say as I hear the squad cars pulling up behind us. Along with the Press. O, they are just gonna have a _field day_ with my appearance.

"I guess Gordon decided to _finally_ show up."

"Shush." He then says to Gordon in his deep Batman voice, "Commissioner Gordon."

"Batman," he greets, nodding. "And... partner...?"

"Luxia," I smile, shaking his hand. "I'm new here. League member-in-training."

Of course, the Paparazzi eats that up.

* * *

After Batman talks things over with Gordon, we head back to the Cave. During the car ride, my mentor says to me, "I thought I told you to stay up on the roof."

I raise my eyebrow at him, questioningly. "One: that was _my_ idea. Two: you were being held hostage. You should be thankful I entered at just the right time."

He just rolls his eyes. "You know, I should probably ground you for being disobedient."

"I like the term 'insubordinate' or 'rebel' better."

"But I won't, because you could kick my butt from here to next Tuesday. And I'm just that nice."

"And because you're a good guy?"

"...Sure."

I grin smugly.

* * *

**Happy New Year! This is _not_ the last chapter of this story, but I will start working on chapters of Alpha Centauri 2: Face to Face soon. _Maybe_ work on Phoenix, too. FYI: AC2 will probably be longer than this story, but I'm not sure by how much.**

**Thanks for all the support!**


	8. Chapter 8

**So, hi again. I lied. This story isn't over- not just yet. The reason I brought this back is because I felt AC was too short for my liking, and I wanted to write about how Dick comes into play and how they meet and take down Zucco together. Also, I just wasn't happy with how far the ending was from the beginning of AC2, so I wanted to fill that time gap.**

**Wait, what do you mean I don't own Young Justice or the Justice League? What? Not even Batman? Okay, but I _do_ own Andy and Astridareus etc.**

* * *

MONDAY, Nov. 14, 2011

Guess what today's _Gotham Gazette_ headline is?

**BATMAN HAS A NEW** **PARTNER?**

It's kinda boring and expected. Yeah, I know.

At least it doesn't say "sidekick".

The front page is taken up mostly by a full-color yet blurry photo of a small figure who seems to be made of light standing next to Commissioner Gordon and a third, darker figure. Anyone else looking at the picture wouldn't know that it's me and Batman.

Written by Vicki Vale, report describes how Batman at first seemed like a legend, how only a few lucky people would see him. Over the next few months more people began to spot him, when greater villains came to power in Gotham. Then he joined the Justice League with Superman, Hawkgirl, Flash, Green Lantern, the Martian Manhunter, and Wonder Woman. After that, he was frequently shown on TV, and he was a myth no longer.

When he took in Robin as a partner, many people thought he was crazy. But now? Taking in another young apprentice- this time, a girl- and an alien at that- who can't be older than fifteen, prancing around in such a _low-cut_ V-neck and a _short skirt_- it seemed like people couldn't think the Batman to be any crazier. It was like he and/or I were committing a legitimate crime.

People have such overactive and perverted imaginations. Just in general.

Anyways, there's also a bit more on the Boy Wonder, what first happened when he came to the spotlight, and how people are wondering where he is now.

I notice that the Press wasn't suspicious about seeing the blasters and daggers in my utility belt. Maybe they didn't notice them? I'm not sure. Thankfully, I was only seen in my alien form, so there aren't many legitimate guesses about who I really could be. Also, if I ever needed to, I could use my human form and a different costume to assume a second title without people being suspicious.

As I continue to read the article, I smirk. Little to they know that Gotham's new _alien_ heroine is also Gotham's new Billion-Dollar Princess. I just hope people are too stupid to connect the two events. Most likely, they are.

I look up when Bruce walks into the kitchen. "Hey, Bruce? Why are people so perverted?"

"Why?" he asks me.

I hand him the paper. "It's the article they wrote on me. Here." He takes the _Gazette_ from me and skims through the column. I snort when his eyes widen to the size of some saucers.

I snicker. "Holy crap, man, the League's totally gonna have a fit! Prepare for the chewing out of your _life_!"

Understatement of the year.

* * *

I shuffle to the old grandfather clock that hides the secret elevator that leads to the Batcave. I'd changed earlier into my silver hero ensemble, as Bruce didn't want me to be caught _at all_ in the Cave while wearing my civilian clothes. I'm still in my human form, though. Once the doors to the high-tech elevator slide shut, I slip on my glasses and smile. I wonder if any of the League members have read the article. I hum absent-mindedly to myself as the elevator lowers further and further into the earth, but I stop once I'm at the bottom. I hear muffled voices outside, one of them belonging to Batman. The doors hiss open and I saunter up to where Batman is sitting in front of the huge computer monitor, which is filled with the faces of Superman, Wonder Woman, Hawkgirl, Green Lantern **(A/N John Stewart)**, Martian Manhunter, and Flash.

"Hey, Bats!" I belt. "Whatchya doin'? Oooh!" I feign awe when I see the League members.

I pretend to pout. "A party? And I wasn't invited? It's because you're discussing what to do about me, right? Well, if you're talking about _my_ future, then _I_ think I should _kinda_ be allowed to hear what you have to say."

By the way my mentor stares at me I know I'm right. Turning back to the rest of the League he continues, "Her training took only a week. Robin's took over a month. Believe me when I say that she could probably take _you_ down, Kent."

I smirk. "Damn straight!"

"No cussing."

"Dude? Really? This's little to _nothing_ compared when I was at Los Gatos High."

"My house, my rules."

I grin smugly. "Okay. _Daddy-Bats_."

Even though he sighs in exasperation, I can feel that he's smiling on the inside.

"Look," Superman says, "I never said that she was incompetent-"

"But you implied it," the Dark Knight growls venomously.

"-but alien or not, I still think she's too young."

"I'm almost eighteen! Remember?" I unhappily notice the lack of reaction at the mention of me being an extra-terrestrial. "Wait. You guys already know?"

"Yeah," replies Green Lantern. "Superman told all of us."

_WHAT?!_ "How much do you know?" I demand. "Did he tell you what race?"

"No, not yet."

"Well, don't. 'Cause _I_ want to. And in person, too- it's _so_ much cooler. And Martian? I _forbid_ you from reading Superman's mind."

"But why?" the Man of Steel asks.

"_Why?_" I ask, almost appalled. "Because _I_ don't go running around screaming, 'OMG Clark Kent is a Kryptonian!' It's _your_ secret to keep, and _mine_ to tell. Learn. The difference. Further more, I only told you because of my rule: you share, I share. I thought it was only _fair_ at the time."

"She's rebellious and insubordinate," Hawkgirl states. "I like her!"

"Yeah," Flash agrees. "When can we meet her in person?"

"Soon," Bruce decides. "I want her to get a better feel of working as a duo first, before she goes out with a bigger group."

"Fine by me," I shrug. I then sing, "Baby, it's fine by me/If you never leave/And we can live like this forever/It's fine by me..."

"You have a beautiful voice," I hear Diana softly compliment me.

I grin. "Oh, thank you. I've unknowingly dedicated most of my life to music."

"Well, maybe we could see you perform sometime."

A Cheshire-like grin spreads across my face when a fabulous idea comes to my mind. "Ohmygawd, I could put on a little recital for the League!" I squeal excitedly to Batman. "You could all stop by the mansion, 'cause we have the most _gorgeous_ Steinway & Sons, and I could move it to the main hall and play some pieces for you. Wouldn't that be _so_ much fun!"

The princess smiles, and she and the other Leaguers agree.

"Wait," Green Lantern interrupts the commotion, "how did you know about J'onn's telepathy abilities?"

"On my home planet, I met with several Martians who were visiting and they all had the same powers," I explain. "I also... went of the Batcomputer when he wasn't looking. It was still logged on, though, so it doesn't count as hacking."

* * *

TUESDAY, Nov. 15, 2011

So. Bruce's other ward, Dick Grayson, is returning today. I decide to go to the airport with Bruce. During the car ride, I start becoming nervous. What if he doesn't like me? What if he thinks I'm trying to steal his spot- in both Bruce's _and_ Batman's lives? How jealous will he be once he finds out that I might make it into the League sooner than him?

Instant headache.

I fidget with the radio, my teal off-the-shoulder knit sweater, my dark-wash boot-cut jeans, anything to release the anticipation building up inside of me. I also update my Facebook status, and then fire a text to Zoey.

ME: Yo dawg **(1)**

ZOEY: Heyy sup

ME: Going 2 the airport 2 pick up Dick Grayson, B's other ward. Name = familiar, not sure from where tho

ZOEY: I wonder if he's cute

ME: Again, SO wrong!

ZOEY: Again, he's not MY adopted bro!

ME: Touche. Wats up w/ u?

ZOEY: Nuthin much. Skool, hw, etc. U?

ME: Nuthin rly. Tuesdays r so boring! Lolzzz **(2)**

"Who are you texting?" Bruce asks me.

"Zoey Martin, the girl coming to sleep over," I reply.

"Tell her I say hi and that I can't wait to meet her."

"'Kay." I fire the text after reading the one my friend just sent me.

ZOEY: Yeah. Random day, nuthin happens

ME: Uh huh. Btw Bruce says HI, can't wait 2 meet u

ZOEY: OMG OMG HI BRUCE UR HOT (o awksauce don't tell him I said that!)

So, of course, I show Bruce the message as he parks the silver Toyota. Laughing, he says, "But she told you not to show me the message."

I snicker. "What she doesn't know won't embarrass her. Maybe."

We climb out of the car and make our way to the luggage claim. We wait among the crowds of people (again, with the pointing and whispering!) for about four minutes before I spot a boy around my Earth-age (thirteen) with raven hair and deep azure eyes.

I raise my eyebrow. _Now_ I know where he's from.

I smile as he, after spotting Bruce, dashes over and flings himself at the billionaire.

"Bruce!" he cries. "I missed you!"

"I missed you too," our guardian replies. "Dick, I want you to meet-"

"Andromeda Sims?" the boy finishes. His eyes widen as he shakes my hand. "Yeah, I remember from that show in Miami!"

"Ohmygosh I was totally wondering where that show was that I met you!"

"You guys already know each other?" Bruce cuts in.

"Well, not _that _well, but yeah," I answer. "It was about three years ago, one year before you took in Dick. Haly's Circus was having a show celebrating their centennial, so the main circus and all of its branches met in Miami and we all performed inside this _humongous _tent. My family and the Flying Graysons' performed together."

"That's where we first met. Didn't we also see each other when our parents decided that we should take a break from circus life?"

"Yeah. You went to Michigan, though, right?"

"Yeah."

"And I went across the continent to stay safe in Los Gatos. I mean, Detroit? _Really_?"

"We were in the safe part of Detroit!" my friend argues.

"There are safe parts in Detroit?" **(3)**

* * *

**So, that was WAY overdue! Sorry for the long wait. I was SWAMPED with work! I'm also mad because it isn't as long as I would've liked it to be. :-\ Anyways, check out euphoriaofwords. She did a Harry Potter story and it's great! Also, I have an account on , under the same name. Check that out, too! :-)**

**(1) This is my typical text-greeting.**

**(2) "Lolzzz" is kinda like my text signature for "Lol." Just a little thing I do. :-)**

**(3) I went to Fresno with a hundred other kids as a school trip, and one of my friends was reading the hotel guidebook thingie, and she saw that it said "Quality Inn (where we stayed- DON'T EVER STAY HERE- the name is voted for "Most Misleading Title of the Millennium") is located in the safest part of Fresno." So, of course, she was all like, "There are safe parts in Fresno?"**


	9. Chapter 9

**Next chapter! Yaaaayyy!**

**As usual, I only own DC Comics in my dreams. I also don't own What Makes You Beautiful, Someone Like You, The Lazy Song, Rumor Has It, _or_ Rolling in the Deep. I do own Andy, most of the plot, etc.**

* * *

TUESDAY, Nov. 15, 2011 (the same day the last chapter left off)

After retrieving Dick's suitcase, we pile inside the waiting limo.

"Hey, Alfie!" Dick exclaims upon seeing the British butler.

"Hello to you, too, Master Dick," he returns. "I assume your visit with your relatives was enjoyable?"

"Yeah." Dick's smile fades. "It was still bittersweet, though, after everything that happened." Once inside the black car, he turns to me.

"It feels like you'll never get over it, that there will always be this empty part on your heart."

I think back to those few months I had to spend in my escape pod out in the middle of space. "I know that feeling."

Only a few minutes later, Dick and I finish talking about everything we currently wanted to, so we now just sit in the limo, engulfed in an awkward silence. I want to ask Bruce if he wants to let Dick know that I found out about their "nightly activities" or if we should tell him later, and if I should keep the fact that I'm not exactly human under wraps for a while.

Nothing. To. Talk. About!

I groan in boredom. Just then, the radio controls in the back catch my eye. Grinning, I switch it on.

"-y_ou light up my world like-_" _NO_.

There's a soft click as I switch channels.

"_-I'll find...SOMEONE LIKE YOOOOOUUUUUUUU-_" _ABSOLUTELY NOT_.

Click.

"_-I don't feel like doin' anythi-_"

Click.

"_-rumor has it she's-_"

Click.

"_-could've had it AAAAAAAALLLLL-_"

"Oh my _god_, Adele, _shut UP_!" I shout at the speaker. I switch the channel again, and it starts playing "Down On Me."

"Not bad," I smirk. But as the song continues, Bruce gives me a disapproving look.

"What?" I say, spreading my arms out defensively. "Be happy we aren't listening to 'S&M' by Rihanna!"

Dick smirks.

Bruce sighs. "Kids these days."

Now, I didn't really expect the trip back to the Manor to particularly uneventful, so I probably shouldn't have been so surprised when, as the limo was held up in traffic, four cop cars zoomed past us. I turn to Bruce, then Alfred, and then Dick, who says, "Wait. She knows? _Already_?"

"Yeah," Bruce answers as he also glances at Alfred.

"How?" He turns to me, wide-eyed.

I massage the back of my neck nervously. "I, uh, compared their silhouettes and saw that Clark is Superman with glasses, and it didn't take too much after that."

"Dude! I- _accidentally_- found the Batcave! But _you_? You figured it out by _yourself_! By comparing their _silhouettes_!"

"Uh, yeah. All in a day's work, right? But seriously now, are we gonna do something?"

"Alfred, check the police scanner," Bruce instructs, and Alfred turns it on.

_"-need backup- bank robbery on East Main Street- taken hostages-"_

_"Copy that-"_

I turn to my guardian. "Well, Bruce?"

He frowns. "We're too far away. With this traffic, we won't be able to make it in time."

"For a human, maybe..." I trail off, raising my eyebrow.

"Absolutely not!" Alfred protests.

"And why, may I ask?"

"Because you are too young, Miss Andromeda, to do this by yourself. You don't know who you're dealing with, and you could be seriously injured."

"Definitely not as much as Bruce or Dick could be."

"What are you talking about?" Dick cut in.

"Uh, I'm not exactly human, Dick," I start. "I'll have to give you the Sparknote version later." I use my light-based abilities to camouflage myself before exiting the limo. Before I close the door I can hear my friend gasp, "Whoa!"

I crouch down to get more momentum, and then push off into the blue sky, perfectly clear if not for the few aimless puffball clouds dotted here and there. Flying to the Manor at this altitude and with this wind speed takes barely a minute. Still hidden, I hover in front of my bedroom window. I pull out the two necklaces from around my neck, selecting the titanium bead-style chain with the key to my briefcase strung on it. Now, the keys to my window's lock and the Manor's front door hang alongside it.

I quickly unlock the window and hurry inside. I find my Luxia costume and slip it on. _Probably a good idea to make another,_ I decide. I slip on my high-tech glasses, drop my human image, and return to the skies. A moment later my iPhone buzzes in is holster on my light-blue leather utility belt.

BRUCE: I want to be able to comm. with you while you talk to Gordon.

ME: K. I'll leave my Bluetooth thingie on so u can hear.

BRUCE: Don't worry; this will count as credit for League induction

ME: :-) Now, let the ET Princess to her thing. C u in a bit.

I strap my phone back into its holster and swoop down. _Maybe I should also have a warmer, back-up uniform,_ I realize as I pass through a wispy cloud. Not very fun, especially if you're only wearing a halter, mini-skirt, and arm gauntlets.

Now that I'm closer to the rooftops of the city, I can easily spot the bank-turned-crime-scene. The blinds are shut on all of the windows and the front door, obscuring my view into the building. The GPD are already on the scene, and a perimeter has been set up. Commissioner Gordon is waiting in front of a large crowd of spectators, talking to one of the lieutenants. I land, immediately entering my "regal state of mind" as I like to call it: official, compassionate, and respectful. I call out, and the crowd parts to make room for me to land. They quiet down as I do so, and I catch snippets of their excited whispers:

"-new hero-"

"-working with the Justice League-"

"-Batman's new partner-"

"-where _is_ Batman-"

"-thought he didn't like metahumans in his city-"

_Huh?_ I'd have to ask him about that later. As I think up a lie for the second-to-last one (and the last one just in case), I switch the Bluetooth in my glasses on. "Commissioner Gordon!" I call out, making my way towards him.

He turns, surprised. "Oh, you're that new hero... Luciana, is it?"

"Luxia," I correct him gently.

"Sorry. Where's Batman?" he asks.

"Broken leg." An easy lie.

"And Robin?"

"Under cover mission."

"Ah."

In my ear, I hear Bruce instruct, _"Ask him for a status update on what's going on."_

"I was on my patrol route when I saw the commotion. What's going on?"

"We got four robbers inside, all armed and dangerous, and they've taken thirteen hostages."

"Anything else?"

"We have reason to believe that one of the hostages is injured."

"Have they made any demands?"

"Not yet."

_"Go in."_

"I'm going in," I tell Gordon.

He splutters for a second. "Are you serious? How old _are_ you?"

"I'm older than I look and what you think I am." It's the truth; I just _look_ like a thirteen-year-old... and sometimes act like one. Okay, maybe most of the time.

"May I also remind you that I'm not exactly human? I mean, _look_ at me!" I hold up my arm for him to see. "Look, Commissioner, if I don't do anything, more people might get hurt, they'll get away with the money, or _both_. I'm going in."

"Fine. But be careful."

I wink at him. "Don't worry." I turn on my heel and beeline towards the bank entrance.

_"Go around the back. You'll catch them by surprise more so than just strutting in the front."_

"Good idea." Returning to camouflage mode, I lift off, soaring over the roof and silently landing in the back parking lot. The robbers' large black car is parked sloppily in one of the spots. Smirking, I take out one of my alien daggers and slash all of the tires and the gasoline tank. The satisfaction turns into a grimace, though, once the horrible smell hits my sensitive nose.

I wait for a couple minutes to see if the robbers will come rushing out any time soon, but it doesn't seem likely. I walk up to the back door and find out that it's locked, so I deliver a small energy blast that knocks the doorknob off. I enter the hallway, which leads me to the main lobby where the hostages are being held. They are all huddled in the middle of the room, in plain sight. Three of the robbers, all clothed in black and carrying machine guns, are scattered around the edges of the room, keeping watch over the hostages. I use the X-ray vision in my glasses and see two more collecting money.

Eight of the hostages are men, and the other five are female. Two of them, though, are little kids- from the way the older boy is holding the slightly younger girl, it's my guess that they're siblings. I can also tell which one is their mother: her arms are wrapped protectively around both of them. One of the men is cradling his arm, where it looks like a bullet grazed him. Another two men are in nice-looking suits- the tellers, by the look of it.

My eyes blaze red with fury. _How could those monsters endanger those two little kids like that? Selfish sons-of-bitches!_

Since I'm still camouflaged, I openly stand up behind the desk and, as quietly as I can, I take out a pen and a small piece of scratch paper and write:

_In a couple seconds, I will be using smoke pellets. The smoke won't be K-O gas, but tear gas. I will use my abilities to shield you from the robbers. I need you, as soon as I make my move, to warn the other hostages and get them out. I will distract the robbers, giving you that chance. PLEASE TRUST ME.  
-Luxia, a new hero in town_

Thankfully, the robbers are too busy shouting and making noise to hear me writing. When I'm done, I fold the paper in half once, use my powers to hide the note, and fly silently over the desk to give it to one of the men. Even though I'm using my powers to keep myself hidden, I still have to be careful; if one of the robbers were to look close enough, they would be able to see the shimmering outline of me. After placing the now-visible note next to his knee, I tap my chosen recipient, and he jerks in surprise. He also sees my letter.

Surreptitiously, he reads it and passes it to the others, motioning for them to be sneaky about it. Once I'm sure most of them have read the note, I reach into a pouch on my blue utility belt and pull out eight green marble-sized smoke pellets. I take a deep breath.

"_Now_!" I shout as I bring up a shimmering energy field around the hostages, creating a tunnel to the doorway. I throw the pellets so that two each land close to one of the three goons standing guard, and use the last two to cover the doorway that leads to the vaults. The goons shout blindly at each other through the smoke and their blurred vision, trying to figure out what's going on:

"What the hell happened?"

"Why're you asking _me_?"

"Because _you're_ usually at fault for most things!"

"Shut up, _both_ of you!"

I cackle creepily at their stupidity as, while they argue, all of the hostages run to freedom. Once I sense that they're all out safely, I drop the field.

"What the hell was _that_?"

"I dunno, man!"

Two pairs of footsteps running in. "What the hell is going on here?"

"We dunno!"

Since I'm immune to regular tear gas (like the kind I'm currently using) I can breathe and see perfectly. I walk up to the nearest goon, hold up my still invisible palms to his eyes, and conjure a blinding strobe light. He hollers, and the others come rushing to his aid, only to earn the same treatment. I laugh as they stumble around (I'm creepy, aren't I?). The condition is only temporary, though, so I need to act before they can.

I send blasts of energy to each of their weapons, making them too hot to hold. As they drop the guns I do a backflip, bringing my feet into two of their faces. The force of me kicking them combined with their heads hitting the hard floor knocks them out cold. I then conjure an orb of energy and fire the concussive blast at a third guy, sending him flying against the wall behind him.

I start as I'm roughly grabbed from behind. I guess the effects of the strobe light wore off quicker than I expected.

Shit.

Well, for _them_, anyways.

I'm thrown across the room, but I manage to levitate myself and pivot in mid-flight to stop myself before I hit the wall. I load my fists with bolts of pale blue energy and fire them at the last two goons.

"Nighty-night," I mutter as they fall backwards, unconscious. I tie them up using specially-made titanium-enhanced cord before leaving the scene. When I strut out the double doors, I see that a couple ambulances have arrived, and medics are caring for the hostages. I raise my eyebrow as the crowd starts cheering, but I do not stop; I continue heading towards the Commissioner.

"Everything has been taken care of," I report. "There was minimal damage done, and I suspect you will find the collected money inside, along with the criminals themselves."

"Well, thank you, Luxia," he says hesitantly, but I can tell he means well. "Uh, tell Batman and Robin I say hi."

I hear someone calling out from the background- Dick?_ "Tell him we say hi back,"_ Bruce's voice fills my ear. _"Well, from Robin, at least."_

"Robin says hi back," I inform Gordon and he chuckles.

"That is one good-natured kid. I've always wondered how he got to end up working with Batman."

"Me, too," I lie, smiling. "Well, I should probably be going now. I hope to see you later. Good-bye!" I turn, waving, but as I enter the crowd, I'm suddenly swarmed by reporters and their camera crews and onlookers asking for autographs. I bend the light around me, though, so the pictures and videos taken will show me as a glowing figure instead of a crystal-blue alien girl.

"Luxia, correct?" one asks. "How does it feel to know you're making a difference in the city?"

"It feels good, I won't lie about _that_," I chuckle as I scribble a flamboyant "Luxia" on someone's T-shirt.

"What made you want to fight crime?" a second inquires.

"The fact that there are people out there that are not able to help themselves when attacked or in danger. Sorry to cut the interview short, but I gotta get going. Places to be, people to help, you know. I'll catch you later!" I smile as I shoot up into the now sunlit afternoon sky.

* * *

**_Phew_! _So_ glad to get _that_ over with. I know it was kinda weird, but I wanted her to go on her first actual solo mission and have some interaction with the Paparazzi and all that jazz. Next chapter, I'm not sure. Maybe an annual Wayne Thanksgiving Banquet/fundraiser?**

**Anyhoo, comments and criticism are appreciated!**


	10. HIATUS NOTE

**Heyy y'all! If this is posted, it means that I'm probably gonna be very busy for a while and unable to post and/or edit chapters. If anyone has left me any comments about errors or suggestions, I will make sure to get to them. I hope to be finished with a new chapter by the end of the month.**

**I know that if you closely follow this story, then you might be pissed. I apologize, but I don't really like the idea of bringing my laptop to Hawaii or New Jersey. However, there will be plenty of time to check on comments and write more, so I haven't forgotten about my faithful fans. Also, I'm beta-ing, too, so that adds to my work load, but my "Alpha," I guess he could be called, is pretty cool. His name is David D. Amaya. Check him out (he has already posted some chapters- the story is called A Knight on the Town). I'm also beta-ing for someone on Fiction Press . com (her name is SSirpi, so check her out, too). To my followers, thanks for the continued support. I know that I haven't been posting as much as you would probably like me to (and as much as _I_ would like to be posting), but your support is greatly valued.**

**In addition, I also am trying to get more of my other stories, including Phoenix Rising and The Experiment (both on Fiction Press . com) posted; so look out for more chapter(s) after the next month. Lastly, check out my friend euphoriaofwords at 4243000. Just copy the number and paste it into the search bar and it should take you to her page.**

**Again, thanks for the support.**

**-Aureus Lux  
****Love you all!****  
**


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